


Heaven's Aria

by Alesiduex



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Color will be mentioned a lot in this fic as well, Drama & Romance, F/M, Female Reader, Inspired by Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso | Your lie in April, Multiple Endings, Music is a recurring theme in this fic, Reader has Synesthesia, Reader is NOT Izumi, Slow Burn, This fic has very little to do with the canon plotline, Violinist Reader, and really oblivious, it mainly focuses on reader's story, reader is an airhead, take that for what you will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 62,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24457930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alesiduex/pseuds/Alesiduex
Summary: [fem!reader/various!A3] With your inspiration just as fleeting as your ever-shortening attention span, you find your muse in a group of aspiring actors.
Relationships: Hyoudou Juuza/Reader, Nanao Taichi/Reader, Rurikawa Yuki/Reader, Sakisaka Muku/Reader, Sakuma Sakuya/Reader, Settsu Banri/Reader, Sumeragi Tenma/Reader, Usui Masumi/Reader
Comments: 23
Kudos: 136





	1. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞.

╔════════════════╗

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

╚════════════════╝

". . . Left?What do you mean she left?"

_"You heard me right,"_ Her mother's harsh voice held a hint of indignation that normally accompanied the subject of her husband. _"Your sister left to follow in your father's footsteps."_ She could hear the disappointment drip from her tone. _"Foolish girl."_

Her mother didn't often bring up the subject of her father. It was considered to be one of the few matters that neither she nor her sister wished to dwell on due to their mother's aversion to it. Izumi, whether it was out of stubbornness or ignorance, she seemed to be the only one who constantly agitated their mother by asking about his whereabouts. Until today the subject brought nothing other than hour-long arguments but now it seemed as though Izumi decided to take matters into her own hands.

There was a sigh heard through the cell phone she placed next to her ear and her attention quickly snapped back into focus when she heard the calls of her weary mother. _"[name], were you daydreaming again? Please tell me you're not anywhere close to a street."_

"No, kaa-san, I'm still on the bus with the rest of my class." She noticed her mother's voice took on a lighter tone compared to the slight strain it held earlier but it still held a note of annoyance. It was obvious her mother no longer wished to dwell on the subject of her apparent runaway sister. "I brought you some souvenirs from Osaka."

Her mother hummed in interest and despite her never saying it, [name] knew she appreciated the redirection of their conversation. _"Oh, nothing too expensive, right?"_

[name]'s eyes fell to the pale blue bag situated between her knees, her head tilting slightly at the faint outline of the box it held within. "No, just some sweets." _And curry powder for onee-chan._ Though she decided against mentioning it so quickly after her mother's expressed frustrations with her older sister. There was a moment of silence that passed, one that [name]'s mother was far too used to giving her youngest daughter when it came to her prolonged thought process. Almost, as if it were an afterthought, [name] mentioned a detail about the result of her latest recital. ". . . Also, I ended up getting first place."

_"Why didn't you tell me that sooner?!"_ [name] slightly held her phone away from her ear as she winced along with her mother's sudden exclamation. _"I could have gotten the ingredients for your dinner if I knew!"_

"Sorry, I forgot." 

_"You forgot? How do you_ forget _winning your first major recital?"_ Another sigh, though it sounded more eager than frustrated. _"Just make sure you get home safely, okay? We'll go out to eat tomorrow."_

[name] nodded as she muttered a goodbye to her mother before swiftly hanging up. Her phone sloppily fell onto her lap, plopping down on the fabric of her plaid skirt. There was the sound of faint murmuring around her, all of it originating from the various students who sat in pairs within the bus's interior. While everyone else had partners to sit with, no one was seated beside her and instead the seat was occupied by a black rectangular violin case. Absentmindedly, her fingers smoothed over its surface as did her gaze, and she faintly smiled at the engraved silver lettering of her own name.

**_Tachibana [name]_ **

* * *

"Light green."

She softly muttered, fingers gently strumming against the strings of the instrument in her hands. Her eyes were closed and behind her lids, they roved across the splash of viridian that suddenly invaded her senses along with a mellow sound. The tips of her fingers once again plucked at the tense strings, this time producing a sound much deeper than the last.

"Midnight blue." Her brow creased, head tilting away from its resting place atop the violin placed between her shoulder and cheek. "No. . . _navy_ blue."

Her eyes fluttered open, allowing the light of the setting sun to fully highlight the luminescence of their hued luster. Leisurely, she lowered her chestnut-colored violin to her lap as her gaze moved towards the blank sheet of manuscript that begged to be filled. The sight of the empty sheet mocked her, though she found no will in herself to become frustrated. Instead, she was comforted with only the idea of it being completed at a later date.

The lids of her eyes lowered, darkening their color significantly as she felt the surge of disappointment flood within her. She had no inspiration. None could be found in the depths of her mind, nor could it be called upon with the mindless playing of music. Even her strategy of abandoning her violin bow in favor of using her fingers had done nothing to spark the ember of revelation. She needed a change of scenery or some kind of stimulation if she wished to find the start of a new piece.

Her hand that wasn't holding onto her violin, hovered over the mechanical pencil that lied at the edge of her music stand. There was a familiar burning in her fingertips that urged her to pick up the utensil to begin the journey of writing music, though there was a resistant pull that kept her from doing so. It was a mental block, she recognized, they were not at all unfamiliar to her as this was not her first and she doubted it would ever be her last.

Silence permeated the expanse of her bedroom. The state of total peace was her preferred environment, though it wasn't as completely quiet as she wished it to be. The faint ticking of a clock could be heard as well as the clinking of dishes downstairs from the kitchen, and the occasional passing of vehicles on the nearby street. Despite the ambiance that normally accompanied a suburban home, it was still a lot more silent than the other places she's practiced in.

Well, except for her school's practice room.

There was a shrill chime that suddenly invaded the tranquility of her bedroom. It's high tone making her ears perk and bright colors rhythmically flash within her mind. Her eyes widened slightly, blinking as she rapidly identified the everchanging hues.

"Light pink and rose. . ." She muttered under her breath. The pattern was somewhat familiar and once her eyes moved away from their fixation on the window in front of her, she picked up the flash of light emitting from the bed she sat beside. The realization of where the familiar melody came from dawned upon her and with a slight gape of her lips, she moved to reach towards it. ". . . It's my phone."

Gently, she placed her violin atop the cushy azure comforter; making sure to take the utmost care in its handling before answering the continuously ringing phone. By the time she got around to retrieve her cell phone, it was already on its last ring before it would force whoever was on the other end to voicemail. Her gaze briefly caught the name of her older sister flashing across the screen before she answered it with a bit more haste than usual.

"Onee-chan. . ." She called with a soft smile overtaking her features. On the other end, she could faintly hear the noise of what sounded like arguing and the sheer volume of it was enough to cause her brows to furrow. "Where. . . are you?"

_"Ah, [name]! I— Masumi, you don't have to sit_ that _close to me!"_

There was the sound of shuffling and a bit more arguing which [name]'s older sister was apart of this time, though her voice was distant as if she were holding the phone away. The oddity of the situation and the mere level of noise that her sister was included in, continued to baffle the younger Tachibana though her thoughts were ruefully kept to herself. There were several more moments of muffled talking before complete silence. 

_"Sorry, [name], I didn't keep you waiting for too long, did I?"_ Her sister's laughter was airy and light. She sounded much more cheerful than she did two weeks ago. It was a contrast that [name] found herself elated to hear. _"I know you came back from Osaka a couple of days ago and I meant to call you the moment your plane landed, but I kinda got caught up in some things."_

[name] hummed, turning her back towards her bed before sitting herself down at its edge. "Kaa-san said you left. . . so, where did you go?"

_"Mankai Company."_ The name was distinctly familiar and if [name]'s memory served correctly, it was the place where their missing father once worked. As if sensing [name]'s question, Izumi quickly confirmed her internal conclusion. _"The acting company tou-san used to direct before he. . . you know. . ."_

_Left._ It's what her sister meant to say, though neither of them wanted to remind each other of their father's abandonment. Unlike [name], Izumi held more of an attachment to their father which was only due to the fact that Izumi spent a few more years with him than she did. Besides, her older sister had always held more of an interest in the work their father did and so it was only natural he'd favor her. Still, it was this attachment that led Izumi into searching for their father even when it meant ending up in heated arguments with their mother.

"I see," [name]'s eyes drift over towards her bedroom window, her brows rising at the sight of a darkening sky. "Though that doesn't explain why _you're_ there."

Izumi exhaled deeply and in it, [name] could detect the heaviest of exhaustion deciphered through the phone. _"That's. . . a long story. . . To put it simply, I've been working as the new director for the past couple of weeks."_

"I guess you're living there now too, huh?"

Izumi hummed in affirmation. Her tone carried a melodic lilt that caused a color to flash within [name]'s mind. It was a color that unmistakably belonged to Izumi and was one [name] often associated with her. _Lilac_. 

"You seem happier."

_"Well,"_ She laughed once again though it sounded more helpless than cheerful. _"I'm as happy as someone who's fighting off a large debt owed to the yakuza_ can _be!"_

". . .What?"


	2. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨.

╔════════════════╗

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

╚════════════════╝

". . . Debt, huh?"

With her gaze blank and distant, [name] continued staring up at the vast blue sky above her with little interest. Her thoughts were what consumed her, though to anyone else, it might have seemed as if she were oddly taken with the sky. Those that wandered by her only spared a glance at her dazed form, their eyes lingering a moment longer on the violin she carried in her arms.

_A debt owed to the yakuza. . . what has onee-chan gotten herself into?_

The ground below her feet felt soft and cushiony and wisps of grass tickled the skin of her ankles. The gentle breeze that blew through the nearly empty park felt refreshing against her slightly heated skin and it ruffled the pleated skirt of her white summer dress. The sun was at its highest in the sky and its intense rays were enough to make anyone break into a sweat, though the youngest Tachibana was partially spared from its heat due to the cherry blossom tree looming above her.

Her fingers that rested against the waist of her violin and clutching her bow against it, buzzed with a tingling sensation. She recognized it as the sudden urge to play. It was a feeling she often felt when her thoughts became too much and she desired to redirect her energy into music. 

Through parted lips, a sigh escaped and she lowered her gaze from the cloudless sky to the earth she idly stood upon. The sight of passersby hadn't broken the concentration she held and with sluggish movements, she positioned her violin atop her left shoulder and pressed her chin against the soft black chinrest. Her right arm rose, bringing the thin mahogany-colored bow up and allowing the string to meet those of the violin.

Calloused fingertips pressed against the neck of her instrument in time with the movement of her bow. The natural ambiance of the park was broken by a sharp flute-like sound. It was steady, unwavering, and persisted for several moments before ceasing when the violinist slightly shook her head in discontent. The noise was enough to catch the attention of the few people who either relaxed on the various benches around her, or those who only passed through the park. Their curious glances hadn't bothered her in the least and her focus remained unbroken even when their murmured words pertained to her current actions.

"Less peach. . . more indigo. . ." She softly muttered to herself, brows creasing as her eyes remained close and oblivious to the slowly gathering crowd.

She drew her bow once more against the tight strings of her violin and this time a different sound was produced. It was deeper than the last and sounded much more soothing in comparison to the sharpness of the first note. She smiled in satisfaction, her right hand drawing up again to prolong the note as the fingers of her left hand tapped against the desired string. 

Although the inspiration for a new song had yet to dawn upon her, she still felt a sense of accomplishment in the act of playing a past piece through memory alone. Various colors of alternating hues flashed behind her closed lids. Each of them coordinated with a certain note and each held meaning to the song she played so fluently. She created the song, written each note in the manuscript by hand, and committed them to memory through the sheer number of times she played it to perfection. This was the song that won her recital in Osaka, the song created solely of differing shades of blues and purples; the song that reminded her so much of her dear sister.

Though, no one other than [name] knew that.

* * *

There was a sound that reached his ears, one that was so distantly soft that it made him momentarily stop in his tracks to figure out whether the melody was just a figment of his imagination. His ears were perked and orange-colored eyes quickly swept across the street he stood upon. Through the noise of passing cars and the murmured conversation of people, he was able to pinpoint where the music originated from. Several feet away from where he stood was the entrance to a nearby park, one he'd often passed by on his way home from school. 

Idly he watched as people began making their way towards the park, their curiosity invested in uncovering the identity of the musician. The mystery of it all itched at him and his fingers twitched at his sides in a vain effort to urge him forward. He couldn't deny feeling the same curiousity as everyone else. With each rise of the melodic song, he found himself drawn towards it. The tune was soft and soothing; filling him with a sense of content that he'd only felt after completing a project.

". . . Just _one_ peek." _Then I'm going home._ He assured himself in a huff as he moved forwards and closer towards the music.

Pale pink petals, belonging to the various cherry blossoms scattered across the park, covered the concrete he walked upon. His gaze traveled across the expanse of greenery before catching onto the sight of a thoroughly gathered crowd. It was obvious from the number of people and the growing volume of music that the mysterious violinist stood just beyond the human cluster.

He approached slowly, his footsteps muted in comparison to the sheer intensity of the music. He felt as if he were in a daze, the melody ringing within his ears and lingering in his mind throughout its small pauses. The song was unrecognizable, most likely due to his unfamiliarity with classical music, yet there was also an odd admiration that settled in his chest. The song _felt_ familiar and was filled with a warmth he couldn't describe in words. The closer he approached the source of the music, the more intense the feelings of content and serenity became.

He was unsure when it happened, but he found himself centered in the front of the gathered crowd. His eyes lifted away from the petal smothered concrete and beheld the lithe figure of a young woman. Her eyes were closed and her chin leaned against the violin she clutched in her left hand while her right continued to guide the elongated bow in saw-like motions. Occasionally, he could see her brow crease almost as if she were gauging her preference of the sounds her violin emitted. From his close position to her, he could see the subtle twitch of her lips that further proved her self-criticism. 

The cherry blossom tree she stood under rained petals down onto her, sprinkling her hair in a misshapen crown of pink. Her movements were delicate, he noticed, feminine in every regard from the very elegant movement of her right hand, to the serene smile she'd wear when she'd hit a note _just_ to her liking. He'd never thought of himself as a person to pay so much attention to another, but he couldn't help it when she seemed so at peace with the world around her.

It almost felt as if the sight before him was much too intimate for the eyes of the general public. Her every move was done with a grace that he'd never seen before and the captivation he felt was one he once believed only belonged to the ideas of cuter outfits to create. 

The peaceful song was coming to an end, he could tell from the sudden drawn-out notes of the girl's violin that she was in the makings of putting it to rest. The thought of its epilogue brought an abrupt wave of disappointment to flood through him and the moment her bow ceased its movement, he realized how engrossed he became with its melody.

Just as she lowered her bow and instrument, her eyes fluttered open and almost instantaneously; their eyes met. His chest squeezed with a pressure unfamiliar to him and his hand settled over his heart as if he could feel what ailed him. His brow creased with confusion and he helplessly broke his gaze away from her own when she flashed him the faintest of smiles. 

The sounds of soft clapping resounding from the people standing around him caught his attention and he found himself once again looking over towards the girl. The gentle wind picked up and blew strands of [hair color] hair into her face while scattering some of the petals that lied atop her head. The small smile she flashed him grew slightly brighter as she bowed politely towards her audience.

As the crowd began to thin out due to the conclusion of her unintentional show, the green-haired male lingered for a bit longer to witness the strange sight of the violinist seemingly looking for something. It was only until his gaze traveled further down her legs that he realized that she possessed no shoes. She was completely barefooted.

He sighed, head shaking in disillusion as he turned himself away from the girl and towards the park's entrance. ". . .Weirdo."

To think he almost thought of her as pretty.

* * *

The sound of ticking held her attention for what felt like an eternity. Its rhythmic sound was pleasant to her ears and allowed her to dwell on the more pressing thoughts lingering in her mind. 

An envelope sat in front of her and placed on the grand desk belonging to the headmaster of her school. Its size was no bigger than a small greeting card, but the red wax seal it branded was one that spoke of prestige. She could faintly recognize the emblem and she undoubtedly knew the headmaster did as well since he was the one who called her into his office for an 'important discussion'. 

He gazed at her in silence, his hands pressed together in a praying fashion as he placed the tips of his fingers against his thin lips. Behind the metal frames of his glasses, his eyes slightly narrowed at her vacant expression, and with some difficulty, he managed to will himself to speak first.

"You recognize this envelope, don't you?"

[name] shook her head, hair swishing as her brows furrowed. "No, never seen it before."

The man sighed, his features somewhat softening in regards to her ignorance. "Recently you took home first place at a recital in Osaka, correct?" When she nodded at his question, he continued. "It seems that some very important people noticed that and wish to invite you to compete in _their_ version of a recital."

She hummed, her fingers reaching out to take the crème envelope into her hands before gently prying the wax seal off and allowing the contents to be exposed. The card inside was a matte black, her name being written in flowy gold cursive along with emboldened words of her welcome to compete.

"The Niijimura family rarely ever invite high school students, let alone _third years._ It's usually reserved for adults, but it appears as though your work has impressed them enough to extend an invitation." 

Her gaze snapped away from the black card in her hand and up towards the inquisitive eyes of the headmaster. "Is there money involved in this?"

Just from the sleek look of the card alone and the headmaster's need to call her in specifically to receive such an invite, [name] held the assumption that this Niijimura family was one who hailed from wealth. The moment her sister informed her of the debt she inexplicably placed herself in, [name] couldn't stand the thought of just letting her face it all alone. Especially when an organization as dangerous as the yakuza were the ones behind it. The idea of a part-time job did appeal to her, though if she were able to put her musical talents to use and earn more money in the quickest amount of time then she'd rather pour her efforts in the alternative.

If these people were willing to put up the money, she was more than willing to showcase her abilities to the furthest of its extent.

"If you win, you'd come home with a little more than a million."

Her gaze fell back down to the invitation decorated with golden lettering gleaming with opulence in dim lighting. Her fingers tapped against the edge of the black card as the image of her smiling sister appeared in her head. 

"Then. . . I'm in."


	3. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞.

╔═══════════════╗

𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲

╚═══════════════╝

Green, sea green, and turquoise. Blue, cobalt, and indigo.

The colors melded within her mind behind her closed lids, creating a mess of hues that oddly didn't seem as distasteful as she would have imagined. They were chaotic in every regard, though there was still a sense of order to them that felt as if the discord were intentional.

The held notes of the violin were wavering, a sign of the current performer's nervousness. Even without looking at the male seated at the center of the large room, she knew that his hands were undoubtedly shaking in their hold of his violin. The colors that he'd unintentionally put in her mind were alternating at an off-putting tempo, yet another sign that his earlier confidence was beginning to dwindle. Still, she did not comment on the murmured whispers and giggling of her classmates around her. Her face was blank, lips stilled into a line, and eyes closed to gain the full perspective of the violinist's piece.

Unlike her classmates, she was not so shallow as to base her liking of his piece solely on his less than stellar performance. Music meant far too much to her to decide that with such little regard. Performance anxiety could easily be fixed, especially by those who aspired to become musicians.

Once the song ended, her eyes fluttered open to meet the sight of her classmate hurriedly rising from his seat placed in the center of the large room and the giggles only increased in volume when he stumbled over his footing. She paid no mind to any of the noise, her gaze solely focused on the troubled visage of her classmate who retook his seat beside her. She wished to impart some words of comfort or even an affirmation that his song wasn't terrible; though the moment she parted her lips, her name was called.

"Tachibana."

Her gaze drew towards her instructor, his kind face pulled into a smile as he beckoned her over with a wave of his hand. Slowly she rose to her feet, clutching her violin and bow to her chest while making her way towards the same chair the male next to her just returned from. 

The murmuring of her class quieted down and as she settled into her seat, she found herself relishing the small moment of peace. Her classmates all sat in a half-circle and the lone chair she occupied was placed in the middle of it. This specific exercise was made to help students become accustomed to the eyes of an audience, and to also allow other students to critique their work through comparison. It was only unfortunate that the nervous boy from before was put against her.

The many eyes of her classmates focused entirely on her hadn't bothered her in the least. All that mattered to her at that moment was to play and the tingling sensation she felt buzzing through the tips of her fingers agreed with that train of thought. With a fluidity that contrasted her normally dazed mannerisms, she placed the violin against her left shoulder and rose her bow up to it in turn. 

There was a clear difference in the performance put on by herself and her nervous classmate. While his notes wavered and were unsteady with doubt, hers were prolonged and rife with confidence. Her eyes were closed and the various colors that bloomed behind her lids filled her with an innate sense of serenity. The song she played would be familiar to all of her classmates as it was the one they heard her perform in Osaka, and the one she's played numerous times with only the memory of color to go on. 

Her keen retention was impeccable and enough to impress her instructors with how quickly she was able to commit a song to memory. Although that trait of hers alone was enviable, she became notorious for her habit of _only_ remembering music and little to nothing else. It quickly became known to many of her classmates that the dazed look she often wore was not due just to her default expression, but a reflection of her ditzy nature.

With bated breath, her classmates watched as her bow sailed across the strings of her violin and creating the sweetest of melodies. Her expression for once wasn't one of usual vacancy, but rare sincerity. Just from her swayed movements that perfectly coordinated with the tempo of the song, her audience knew of the ardor she held for music only.

The current [name] that sat before them all was vastly different from the girl who always had her head in the clouds. The contrast between her usually daydreaming self and her earnest love for the violin could sometimes prove to be too much for her peers who'd otherwise regard her as nothing more than an eccentric idealist.

With each fluent motion of her right hand, those whose eyes never left her seated figure pondered on the oddity that was Tachibana [name].

* * *

Sitting atop her desk in a neat stack was a few sheets of empty manuscript. The classroom she occupied was clear and void of any students who'd normally linger around. The light of the afternoon sun was the only thing that kept her company, and even that proved to be of no help when it came to her absence of inspiration.

Her cheek rested in the palm of her hand as she gazed out of the classroom window she sat next to. Her eyes followed the retreating figures of students who were heading home for the day unlike herself. Their laughter along with their loud conversations could be heard from her place within the classroom, though her mind was seemingly focused elsewhere. 

There was a myriad of colors that appeared in her mind, most of them looking very similar to the ones shown to her during the nervous boy's performance. The varying hues of greens and blues struck her with a feeling of familiarity and his wavering song replayed numerous times within the confines of her mind. Her fingers that sat atop the surface of her desk tapped to an inaudible beat and as she delved deeper into the melody of a song belonging to another, she failed to hear the door of her classroom sliding open.

It was only until she felt a gentle tap to her shoulder accompanied by the call of her name that she finally realized she wasn't sitting in the classroom alone anymore. With a slight jolt, she moved her gaze away from the courtyard of her school and over towards the worried expression of her classmate. He stood at the side of her desk, brows knitted together and pinkish colored eyes reflecting his concern. Owlishly, she blinked up at him as her hand dropped away from her face and lips parting slightly to showcase the minute feeling of surprise that washed over her.

"Oh. . ." She breathed, her gaze never leaving his as he lowered his hand back down to his side. "Did you need something, Sakuma-kun?"

The crease between his brow only further deepened at the lack of awareness the girl seemed to possess. "I heard you, um, _muttering_ to yourself and I was just wondering if you were okay."

She was quiet for a moment, her eyes slowly blinking before lowering down to her desk. His gaze followed her own and he was somewhat intrigued by the empty music sheets scattered atop her desk. Her fingers grazed across the pages of black lined sheets before a thoughtful hum emitted from her.

"I was. . . thinking. I tend to do that out loud." Her voice was unusually soft and if it weren't for the total silence of the room the two were in, then he was sure he'd never have been able to hear her words. "Sorry if I scared you."

Despite sharing a class with her since the beginning of their first year of middle school, he never found the courage to speak to her. To him, she always appeared to be unreachable. At the age of seventeen, she'd already accomplished so much that Sakuya couldn't deny the feeling of inadequacy compared to her. Even if he'd never label his feelings envy, or hold any negative emotions over her natural talent, he couldn't help the sense of wanting to be on the same level as her before deciding to make his presence known. Though what confused him was of their classmates' odd avoidance of her. 

Tachibana [name] was a talented musician, he didn't need to know her personally to acknowledge that fact. The numerous accolades she's received in the short time he's known her was admirable, to say the least. He believed the praise directed towards her was honestly deserved and although their classmates have always politely applauded her for each achievement, there was still an obvious distance they preferred to keep her at. 

Friends did not come so easily to the girl as it did for Sakuya. His natural cheer and camaraderie were among the many traits that attracted people to him. His ability to make friends with just about anyone directly contrasted the lack of company [name] kept. It wasn't that she was hard to get along with, neither did she look unfriendly or unapproachable; it was more of the fact that she was just. . . _different_.

Along with her habit of muttering to herself, there was also the added overall obliviousness she held for the world around her. Many times he would look over at her during class only to catch her staring off into the distance with a dazed look on her face, or she would be swaying rhythmically to a song only she could hear. Her speech was odd as well. Never once had he ever heard her raise her voice higher than the soft tone she'd regularly use and if no one bothered speaking to her, she could go a whole day without saying a word.

She was strange and that fact was very obvious to many of their peers, though it never once bothered her. He wasn't sure if it was due to her ignorance of social cues or if she was just truly stuck in her little world, either way, it seemed as though she wasn't aware of how her peers perceived her. Even if she was ignorant of how the others felt about her, he thought it couldn't have felt good to be avoided.

"You didn't scare me!" He assured, a bright smile picking up at the ends of his lips as she lifted her head to meet his gaze once more. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you still doing here?"

"I'm going to be competing soon," She revealed, her eyes averting from his cheerful countenance to stare ahead at the blackboard situated in front of the class. "And to win I need to create an original song."

His head slightly tilts in curiosity and before he can ask her to further elaborate, she speaks once more. "The classroom is usually silent after school ends and it helps me think more clearly when there's no one to bother me."

He slowly blinks as her words process within his head and soon enough his eyes widen with realization. "I-I wasn't bothering you, was I?!"

With a shake of her head, she turns towards him as her lips curve into the smallest of smiles. Her eyes shine with an emotion he'd never once seen from her before and with little warning, she addresses him with needless warmth. "No, you didn't bother me, Sakuma-kun. You kind of helped me, so thanks for that."

His brows furrow out of confusion and his smile takes on a look of uncertainty. He's left wondering what she felt the need to thank him for and with a strained chuckle, he accepts her gratitude. "You're welcome. . . I guess?"

Tachibana [name] is possibly the oddest person he's ever met, though he doesn't find himself repulsed by her peculiarity like many of his classmates. Instead, he wishes to know more of the many thoughts that could potentially plague a girl as strange as the violinist seated before him. The interest he felt existed since their first year together in middle school and it was only until now that he felt it bloom along with the smile she displayed for him.

Maybe she wasn't as out of reach as he once thought of her.


	4. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫.

╔═══════════════╗

𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫

╚═══════════════╝

The breeze that passed through the streets of Veludo Way soothed the heat that bore down on her from above. In her left hand, she carried her violin case and in the other, the straps of her school bag dangled from her fingers. Her footsteps were drowned out by the noise of passing cars and the chattering of passersby. There were various crowds gathered along the sidewalk and as she passed, she could sometimes pick up pieces of what sounded like street acts. The air carried the scent of cherry blossoms brought in from the nearby park and it mixed with the smell of the various eateries stationed around them. 

At her side was her older sister and the conversation they carry is casual, though it's much too one-sided than what the eldest Tachibana preferred. Izumi loops her arm through her sister's, a grin decorating her features as she nudges the younger girl's side.

"What's got you so silent all of the sudden? We haven't seen each other in weeks and you've barely said a word to me."

Although her words were spoken with a light tone to convey her insincerity, [name] still glanced over at her sister with an apologetic expression. "Sorry, I've been. . . kinda distracted."

Izumi laughed, her grip on [name] tightening. "When are you not _ever_ distracted, miss airhead?"

". . .rude." The violinist mumbled. "I don't remember you being _this_ mean."

There was another laugh accompanied by a playful bump of Izumi's hip against her own. "Those guys might be rubbing off on me. . ."

With her head tilted and her brows furrowed together, she regarded her older sister with confusion. "Guys? . . .Rubbing off? Wait, onee-ch—"

"Anyway, I can't wait to show you around the theater! It looks so different from the photos otou-san showed us!"

[name] heaved a sigh, allowing her sister to roughly pull her along towards a destination the younger Tachibana wouldn't have been able to find on her own. Both her bag and case knocked against her legs in protest to the new speed her sister forced her to take on, yet she did nothing to deter Izumi. The older woman was humming cheerfully and [name] couldn't will herself to ruin the obvious good mood she was in. Instead, she merely smiled, happy to see her sister's lightened disposition in person rather than hearing it over the phone.

_She's so much happier compared to before._

Before her trip to Osaka, she could remember the constant arguments her sister and mother would engage in, all of them centered on the one subject of their missing father. Even if Izumi hadn't said anything of her dismay with their mother's refusal to relent any information, [name] could tell that her older sister was unhappy. It felt as if it's been forever since she's seen her sister's smile and it delighted her to no end at the realization that Izumi's presence in Mankai Company unexpectedly turned her mood around. 

"Are you ready?" Her sister grinned, back leaning against the front door of the theater.

"As ready as I'll ever be." She answered as she shrugged the straps of her bag into a more comfortable position. "Now hurry up, I wanna practice."

The moment Izumi pushed open the door, [name] moved past her to fully take in the view of the theater. The hall was large but not enormous like the auditorium in Osaka. Still, its sheer size was enough to force her lips to part in slight awe. Her gaze roamed across the wooden stage and red curtains that framed it. The rows of seats she walked by distantly reminded her of the past recital she performed in and she could almost imagine the seats filled with people. 

Slowly she approached the stage, her ears perking at the sound of her sister's footsteps following shortly behind her. She carelessly dropped her school bag, her eyes focused on the stage looming before her. The violin case she held in her hand felt so heavy all of the sudden and the tips of her fingers buzzed with a familiar sensation. 

"It's amazing, isn't it?"

She didn't bother meeting the gaze of her sister who stared at her with a smug expression. She merely nodded, a hum emitting from her as she hurriedly made her way towards the steps that would allow her onto the stage.

"Not as great as the one in Osaka. . . but good enough."

"I know that I asked you to be more honest with me but this isn't what I meant."

Setting her case down, she kneeled in front of it before unlatching its locks and prying open the lid with a gentle touch. The polished wood of her precious instrument gleamed in the ambient light of the theater and with a small smile on her face, she retrieved it from its case. 

"Sometimes I feel like you like that thing more than me. . ."

Her sister's words were spoken in a grumble, though it was still loud enough for [name] to hear her. Without putting a halt in her motions, the younger Tachibana rose to her feet with her violin and bow in hand. Her gaze lifted away from the stage floor and met the smiling visage of her older sister. 

"There's a song that I've been wanting to play for you," [name] informed, her fingertips gliding across the instrument's strings. "It's the one that I played in Osaka."

"Has mom heard it already?"

[name] shook her head. "No, I wanted you to hear it in person first."

_Because I made it for_ ** _you_** _._

Once again she ignores the self-satisfied look her sister wears and with a deep breath, her eyes flutter to a close. With ease, she blocks out the ambiance of the theater and she revels in the silence that now surrounds her. Her sister was more than privy to [name]'s need for total silence and her presence quickly melds with everything else.

Her right hand lifts, placing the bow's string against the violin's and soon enough the beginning of a melody occupied the silence. The colors of the sky filled the expanse of black behind her lids and the accompanying violets sprinkled in with azure was nostalgic. She could perfectly remember the song and the varied pitches with such ease as if she played the piece only hours earlier. 

Each movement of her bow and press of her fingers against the violin's neck was precise and done with proficiency. Izumi couldn't keep her eyes away from the figure of her sister and the smile that lifted at the corners of her lips came naturally.

Throughout the years she was witness to the talent [name] held in music and she was proud to be among the people who supported her endlessly. With every award and recital she was invited to, there was always a feeling of pride that burned in Izumi's chest. She was happy for her sister and the added fact that [name] was able to achieve her dream hadn't ever dissuaded that feeling. Izumi had long accepted the fact that she was never made for the stage but now that she found her place in support of those who could do what she could not, she was more than happy with her spot in the background.

With the crescendo of [name]'s song at its peak, Izumi could feel a familiar sensation of chills rake through the length of her body. There was a delicacy in the rapid movements of her sister's right hand, and each note that followed the climax of her song was done with a passion Izumi couldn't help but admire.

Her younger sister truly loved what she did and it was clearly shown through the ardency of her performance. Even if she played for only an audience of one, there was still an enthusiasm that was exclusively seen when a violin was in her hands. 

With a wistful smile and a shake of her head, Izumi chuckled softly. "You never cease to amaze me, [name]."

* * *

She could almost call it an ignition. 

It sparked within her at a moment's notice and colored her world with a rainbow of hues, but it was only brief. Fleeting. She wished to grasp it, hold it in between her calloused fingers, and wish for it to stay there for eternity. It was warm and filled her with a bubbly feeling of hope. She didn't know what to call it, but an ignition was the closest thing that came to mind. 

He sparked inspiration or at least a semblance of it, but it was enough to garner her interest. 

Sakuma Sakuya was his name and it was one she easily recognized belonged to the boy who's shared the same class with her for a little more than five years. Though they've never once spoken a word to each other until their incidental after school meeting, she knew him as the boy who was well regarded by most of their classmates.

He sparkled, she thought, brighter than even the sun itself. He was a person she'd never think of interacting with solely on the basis that she was far too wary of those whose energy outmatched her own. Sakuya was an undoubtedly cheerful person, she didn't need to be friends with him to know that.

Her interest in becoming closer with her classmates was honestly, non-existent. She held no concern in anything that strayed away from music and among those things happened to be the act of socializing. It wasn't as if she wished to completely disregard making friends, there were times in her life where she found herself surrounded by those who shared similar interests as her own and were people she didn't mind talking to now and then. Though that was in elementary school when kids were arguably a lot more accepting than they were now. 

She was somewhat aware of what others thought of her. Despite their beliefs, she wasn't so far out of it that she was totally ignorant of their conspicuous whispering or their blatant stares. She knew that she was a bit. . . _odd_ and was mindful that not everyone necessarily liked that aspect of her. It was only through her sheer lack of care towards their opinion had she been able to continue through many school days without feeling deterred by their scrutiny. Nothing seemingly mattered to her, not unless it had to with the color of sound or the fleeting ideas of melody. 

It wasn't that she believed she found a friend in Sakuya, it was more as though she believed to have found her _muse_. The inspiration came to her in bursts, impactful but never lingering for long. The moment he made an effort to speak to her, she found herself feeling that bubbly sensation; the telltale signs of incoming brilliance.

She didn't know how it began or even why he was the one to spark it, all that she did know was that he was easily able to light a fire within her by doing little to nothing. She's never once had a muse and it was only due to having followed various artists and musicians works for years that she realized a muse's importance. If she was correct about him, Sakuya could be an infinite source of inspiration for her and that alone was a benefit she was desperate to possess. Especially if she wished to win the cash prize of that competition she recently joined.

To see him standing before her, applauding her next to Izumi felt as if the possibility of his constant presence in her life was palpable. The grin he greeted her with and the expansive wonder that filled his magenta-colored eyes felt odd to be directed towards her. Though she wasn't bothered by the attention given to her not only by him but by the four other strangers that slowly trailed after him, she was still struck with confusion on his presence within the theater and of the identities of the strangers.

"Sa. . .kuma-kun?" She blinked as she lowered the violin to her chest. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know each other?" Izumi glanced between both her younger sister and the male next to her. She placed her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed slightly at the redhead. "Why didn't you tell me you knew my sister, Sakuya?"

". . . _Sister?"_ Sakuya echoed and when the words finally registered in the minds of the strangers standing behind him, they too emitted noises of disbelief.

The only one who seemingly looked unfazed by the news was the duo-toned haired male that was standing uncomfortably close to Izumi. She easily recognized the uniform he wore as it mirrored the one that belonged to her school. 

"My name is Tachibana [name], nice to meet you."


	5. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞.

╔═══════════════╗

𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐜 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

╚═══════════════╝

There were several things that [name] could name that persisted her love for music. The violin was among them. She adored not only its sound, but the feel of its strings against the tips of her fingers was what seemingly grounded her from drifting too far off into her own little world during performances. 

Music is what kept her in reality, music alone was possibly the only thing that could make her feel whole. Without it, she wasn't sure _what_ or _who_ she'd be. She held no skills in socializing, let alone academics, and the emptiness of it all scared her. It frightened her to think of amounting to nothing more than an aimless girl with a few odd tendencies. At least with music, there was _some_ kind of direction in her life.

Though music was all about freedom of expression through sound, to her it was always different. She took solace in the thought that she could do anything with a melody as long as it abided to a flow of color that only made sense to her and her alone. No one else could share in the same pattern that flitted across the expanse of black behind her lids, and no one else knew of the colors she associated with each unique sound that intruded her senses.

It was an uncommon trait of hers that she took pride in and one that attributed to her success with the violin. Despite her continued interest in color and the knack for associating them with the various people she'd come to meet, there were only two people other than herself who knew of her synesthesia. To others, it might have seemed as if her odd fascination with color was just another trait of hers that could be considered eccentric.

In front of her stood five males, all with different voices that provided unique colors that she now correlated to each of their persons. These were the men her sister directed, the supposed actors who made up the first of four troupes belonging to Mankai Company. If there was anything her father was good for, it was needlessly rambling on about the company he was so very proud to direct, and in turn, he fed his two daughters information they didn't know what to do with.

"For sisters, you two look nothing alike." A deep intonation, inspiring a burst of royal purple. Usui Masumi, she quickly recognized.

"I take more of our mother's side. Onee-chan is a bit of both." Her voice echoes across the stage and as her eyes lift away from the locks of her violin case, they quickly meet his gaze. She regards him with a narrowed look and a furrowed brow. "The only real concern here should be the reason you're standing so close to her. Don't you know what personal space is?"

Before the male could even spit back an equally venomous response, her sister intervened with a clap of her hands and a much-needed change in subject. "A-Anyway! [name]'s _really_ good with the violin, right?"

"Why are you asking us?" Red. Though the color wasn't insanely dark, it was light enough to _almost_ border pink. Coral. It belonged solely to the suited man, Chigasaki Itaru. He was a man she noticed subtly twitching his fingers during their first introduction. To her, it almost appeared as if he were impatiently waiting for something.

"Yes, yes!" Yellow. Bright and filled with warmth. Citron, a foreigner. His accent was thick and it didn't take long for her to realize he knew only a limited amount of Japanese. Though that didn't seem to stop him as the grin he bore went well alongside his carefree demeanor. "She is a musician, no?"

Her eyes flitted over towards Sakuya as she heard him hum in affirmation. "Tachibana-san is entering a competition soon!" There was a sweet smile on his face, almost as if he were proud of her. It seemed as if she completely underestimated his ability to befriend almost anyone. Giving her support like that would undoubtedly earn him her preference. 

"Wha—?" Came her sister's incredulous response and soon enough her gaze snapped over towards [name]'s kneeled form. _"When_ were you planning on telling me about this?!"

"Director. . . how are you _just_ finding out?" Minagi Tsuzuru's voice elicited an almost similar shade of color as her sister's. His was a light blue, it's shade taking on the appearance of the open sky. He _looked_ brotherly and she could imagine that he had younger siblings, though she wasn't sure if he did in reality.

Her attention returned to her violin case and with one final snap of the metallic locks, she lifted both herself and the case from the ground. There was a sigh that left her lips as she peered down at her sister from her place on the stage. "I was planning to tell you after I finished playing, but you got too carried away with introductions. . ."

"Only a _little_ ," She flushed with a sheepish look before shaking her head and placing her hands on her hips to appear more serious. "More importantly, have you told kaa-san?"

"Not yet," She averted her eyes towards the floor of the stage as she neared the steps descending to the main floor. Her voice rose slightly from its normally mellow tone to accommodate the distance between herself and the group of six standing before the stage. "But she likes those sorts of things so I know she'll approve."

The moment she stood directly in front of them, her sister was quick to place her hands atop her shoulders as her head tilted and brows knitted with curiosity. "You don't usually accept invitations so easily. . . most of the time it takes some convincing for you to even _consider_ going. No one's pressuring you, right?"

With her free hand, [name] patted her sister's arm as a gesture of reassurance. "No. No one's making me do _anything._ I just. . . thought I should put more effort into getting noticed." 

If there was anything [name] was sure of, it was that her sister would never allow her to enter a competition for her sake. The moment Izumi found out she was only competing for the chance to win money for _her_ , she would be overwhelmed with guilt. It was better if the details of the competition were kept under wraps for now.

"Still," [name]'s gaze slightly widened as she felt her sister give an affectionate pat to the top of her head. "I'm glad you're thinking about your future! Just be sure to tell me when the competition's held so I can cheer you on."

With cheeks reddened with embarrassment, [name] shied away from her sister's touch with a meek nod. Her gaze averted away from Izumi's gleaming expression and once she retrieved her bag that was thrown off to the side, she stepped past both the figures of her sister and the males that were a bit taken aback with her sudden display of timidity.

"I will. . . _if_ I remember."

The door of the theater closing behind her echoed throughout the large hall, leaving those that stared after the retreating figure of her their director's sister in bewilderment. There was much to be learned about the girl who was an apparent talented violinist. From the twitch of her brow to the dreamy expression she wore during her impromptu performance, there was an undeniable impression left on all of them that wished to be sated. For the others, it might have been the idea of being able to take a glimpse into the more personal life of their beloved director, but for Sakuma Sakuya; he knew the younger Tachibana herself was the source of his curiosity. 

Izumi grinned happily as she stepped between and in front of them, her arms crossed over her chest. "To think she still gets embarrassed with just a _little_ attention. . . You'd think she'd grow out of that with the crowds she performs in front of." Though the woman spoke to no one in particular and received little to nothing in response, she still carried on as if she did. "I can't help but think it's adorable though."

Her eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment before reopening with vigor. "Sakuya!" She called as she swiveled around towards him. His magenta-colored eyes were slightly widened with surprise and he quickly sputtered out a response to her. "Do you mind walking my sister back to the station? Even if she did leave first, she has no sense of direction and she's bound to get lost if she doesn't have someone there with her."

"Um, what about pract—"

"Don't worry," Izumi dismissively waved, already gently urging the rest forwards towards the stage. "You'll only miss a little, besides you've been in really good form lately!" She flashed the redhead a smile over her shoulder before refocusing on the group walking before her. "Tsuzuru, we'll go over your lines first, okay?"

* * *

"Tachibana-san!"

At the sound of a familiar voice, [name] came to a stop. She peered over her shoulder with slightly parted lips and her gaze was wide with wonder at the sight of Sakuya jogging towards her. The moment he was within arms reach of her, she turned around and faced him fully with a small smile decorating her lips.

"Sakuma-kun. . . I thought you were with my sister."

He takes a moment to catch his breath before he responds to her comment with a nod of his head. "She asked me to take you to the station. I hope you don't mind." 

If his sheepish expression wasn't enough to convince her, the sweet smile that followed after it was truly what drove her to accept his offer. Along with the added fact that she didn't know which direction the station was in the first place. With a grateful bow of her head, she joined his side as he led her in the complete opposite direction from where she was initially heading. If he hadn't shown up when he did, she would have undoubtedly gotten lost. Just the thought of all the trouble she would have had to go through just to get back home made her sigh in exasperation. 

The streets weren't as crowded as they were hours earlier. Instead, they were mostly occupied by students walking home from their respective clubs and mothers guiding their children home from the nearby park. The afternoon sun cast a hazy orange hue across various buildings and lit the surface of her exposed skin in tingly warmth. Summer was approaching, she could feel it in the increased temperatures and the fading scent of cherry blossom that used to forever permeate the air.

The passage of time felt all so fleeting to her. To her, it felt like it was only yesterday that she was eating dinner with her mother and sister; now things have changed. Now only _she_ was returning home and her sister found a place somewhere else. As happy as [name] was that her sister found some happiness somewhere that could also provide her the answers she sought, there was no denying that she didn't feel a little lonely. It would take some time to get used to the missing presence of her older sister, but [name] was determined to support her no matter where she went. It was what Izumi deserved after all of the years she put into helping [name] out with her dream.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you, Tachibana-san. . ." Sakuya's voice suddenly cuts through the peaceful silence that settled between them and an attentive hum emits from her as she glances towards him. "About your competition. . ."

The moment they step in front of the station, both of them come to a stop, and [name] faces him with a curious expression. His brows were slightly furrowed and his lips were curved down in a rare frown. It conveyed his sincerity and it made her wonder what it was about her recent invitation that had him stricken with such a look.

"If it's okay with you, I'd like to go see you play."

She blinked, head tilting slightly as confusion overtook her features. "Why? Those kinds of concerts aren't really fun, you know."

Her grip on her violin case tightened and she averted her gaze with some nervous anticipation for his answer. Although she wasn't one to force people into attending her performances, it wasn't as if she was against letting others see her play. If anything, her apprehension was purely out of consideration for him. Classical music wasn't everyone's cup of tea and she was well aware that it was perceived as boring to teens her age.

"I want to support you!" His sudden exclamation draws her attention once more and he flushes slightly as he casts a sheepish look over the general area before continuing with a lowered tone. "I only heard a little when you played for your sister but. . . I really want to hear you play more."

With a sharp exhale through her nose, she nodded her head. "Well, if you put it like that, who am I to say no?"


	6. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱.

╔═══════════════╗

𝐅𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

╚═══════════════╝

With fingers splayed across the glossy surface of the table she rested her head atop of, [name]'s gaze focused solely on the mellow rhythm her nails tapped out. Her eyes followed the repeated movement of her free hand and she watched as each digit descended onto the table’s surface with a sharp _click._

The murmuring of the cafe’s patrons went otherwise unnoticed by the dazed girl and she paid no mind to the smell of the heavenly scented delectable that sat only inches away from her. The weight of her head made her folded arm it rested upon to pulsate with a numbing sensation, yet she didn’t bat an eye at the prickling that was beginning to turn painful. She was far too entranced with the improvised melody, taken with the soft pinks and rose colors the sounds emitted. They distinctly reminded her of someone dear to her and at the thought of him, she smiled lightly to herself.

Although music was lingering within her mind intending to inspire _something_ for an original song, her thoughts were elsewhere and the empty music manuscripts that fanned out across the booth’s table continued to go untouched. Every slow blink of her eyes caused another image of a certain smiling redhead to appear. Ever since Sakuya offered her his support, she’s noticed he made much more of an effort in conversing with her, and in turn; she’s begun to think of him more outside of school. 

While it was true that he unknowingly became her muse, she still wished to think of something else rather than the pressing thought of wanting to see him again. Music should be the only thing on her mind at the moment. The fate of her upcoming competition depended on it and if she wished to assist her sister with her debt, she couldn’t allow her thoughts to derail so easily.

Becoming friends with him wasn’t the goal, yet keeping him at a distance where she would be somewhat acquainted with him but never close enough for their relationship to be considered more, was more difficult than she could have ever imagined. He was far too bright, warm, and friendly. The welcoming aura he naturally emitted was enough to make her feel at ease in his presence and she couldn’t help but feel drawn into it. 

To her, he was interesting. It was rare for someone to be as good-natured as him, as well as being so painstakingly naïve. He actively looked past her odd tendencies, speaking to her as if she were nothing more than another one of his classmates and for that she was grateful. It was no wonder that she found herself becoming closer to him despite her initial intentions of only using him as a source of inspiration.

Befriending Sakuya was her sole exception. She made no efforts in doing the same for Masumi or any of the other actors in her sister’s troupe. Ever since that day she’s met them, she’s yet to return. It wasn’t as if she held disinterest in performing arts, she couldn’t deny her curiosity when Sakuya rambled on during lunch of their upcoming performance. The theater was not only the same place that her father once worked at, a memory that she held a tinge of resentment towards, but it was also the same place that was dear to her older sister.

From her visit a week earlier, it was fairly obvious to [name] that Izumi was very much invested in the fate of the theater. She could remember the phone call she shared with her sister that night where she informed [name] of what was all on the line in terms of the company’s debt. If the spring troupe’s performance doesn’t rake in a full house, then the theater was doomed to be demolished and repurposed. It was then that it all made sense to [name] and the dedication Izumi held to the place wasn’t so obscure as it once was. 

[name] wasn’t an actor, neither was she looking to become one nor did she hold any interest in it; therefore she felt as if she didn’t _need_ to be there in the theater. Along with the added fact that she did _not_ like Usui Masumi, she decided it was best to keep her distance if she wished to not add to the already heavy burden her sister carried. Izumi didn’t seem to mind her reluctance to return to the theater and in their almost daily phone calls, she always ended with a vague invitation to come see her whenever [name] felt up to it. Sakuya was the same in that regard, though his efforts were surprisingly more subtle than her sister’s. He was well aware of her dislike for Masumi, a distaste egged on by his continued persistence to be closer to their director, who also happened to be [name]'s beloved older sister.

For a moment her fingers stop in their melodic tapping and with another slow blink, [name] lifts her head from the table. There was a ringing of a bell that sounded in her head, one that was indeed within reality rather than manifested from the depths of her mind. She slowly turned in her seat towards the entrance of the café, peering over the booth’s backrest at the new figure who occupied the cafe’s entrance.

She watched as he glanced around for a moment, pink hair fluttering with every movement of his head before his eyes eventually landed on her and she beckoned him over with a wave of her hand.

“Muku,” She smiled, eyes brightening ever so slightly at the sight of his softened features. “I didn’t think you’d be able to make it. . .”

His cheeks reddened in the light of day that spilled in from the window they sat near. He slid into the seat across from her, the messenger bag he carried with him clunking against the plastic edge before he lifted it to properly set it down next to him. She glanced towards it with some curiosity before the flap slightly lifted to expose a familiar cover of a book within.

“Reading manga again?” She asked, her head tilting slightly as her lips parted with mild interest.

At her question his eyes brightened, highlighting their azure color as his soft smile became more excited. Around her, Muku never felt the need to hide his interests nor hold himself back when discussing them. His ability to act so freely around her was a product of their prolonged friendship and undoubtedly the familiarity they held in one another. [name] was not only his _best_ friend, but his neighbor, his confidant, and most importantly; the girl who believes in him. 

She knew of his wish to become something better than what he was in his current self, and she wholeheartedly supported his endeavors into breaking out from his shell. He wished to become more radiant, much like the male protagonists he often read about, and her continued words of encouragement helped him in more ways than she could ever realize.

“You remember that manga I was telling you about the other day?” At her nod, he hurriedly continued. “I finished it last night and I found out the mangaka has another series they’re working on and I couldn’t help but want to go look for it at the bookstore. . .”

“I’m guessing that’s where you lost track of time?”

He shyly nodded, fingers nervously intertwining beneath the table as various outlandish scenarios began to run through his head that involved [name]’s disapproval. “S-Sorry. . . I know we agreed to meet up at a certain time and I. . . _totally_ forgot.” He tightened his fists as his eyes screwed shut. “It’s fine if you wanna leave or hit me or tell me how terrible of a fri—”

“Muku,” She called and when it failed to catch his attention, she opted for a far less subtle approach. With a flick of her wrist, she threw the balled up wrapper of her straw and it successfully hit him in the middle of his forehead. He yelped, hands flying up to cover the assaulted area as his eyes snapped open to peer at her with a wide-eyed stare. “I’m _not_ mad.”

At his audible sigh of relief, she rolled her eyes. “You know I’d never get mad at you for that. . . besides, I get the same way when it comes to music. So you have nothing to apologize for, okay?”

Slowly, he lowered his hands away from his forehead as he blinked owlishly at her. He looked as if her answer genuinely astonished him and a part of her wondered if he were truly expecting her to be angered with him over something so trivial. Soon enough, a smile began to pick up on the ends of his lips as he cheerfully nodded. It was a complete switch from the anxiousness he experienced only moments earlier. Despite his odd swing in moods, she said nothing. She’d much rather see a smile on his face than the quivering lip he bore when he fretted over the most obscure things.

“Now, are you gonna order something?” She asked, pausing for a moment before sliding the piece of cake sitting in front of her closer towards him. “Or do you want _this?”_

The flavor was undoubtedly chocolate, an indulgence that Muku could smell from his seat and one he couldn’t will himself to resist. The cake was decorated with a careful hand, white icing contrasting the dark color of its base. Sugared flowers sat atop the dark whipped cream and he felt his mouth watering at the sight of chocolate ganache dribbling from between the double-layered cake.

“Are—Are you _sure?”_ He asked despite the clear want that was displayed in his eyes. He never once looked up at her, his attention focused solely on the dessert placed before him.

She laughed through her nose, her head shaking as her eyes lowered away from his distracted form and to the empty lined papers that were spread out before her. “You can have it. . ." She dismissively waved. "I bought it for _you_ anyway.”

His eyes seemingly sparkled at her words and he wasted no time in diving into it with the silver fork [name] slid over towards him with the cake. Along with his first bite, he hummed happily. The cake was soft, practically melting in his mouth and he couldn’t help the delighted smile that graced his lips nor the blissful sigh that followed.

Although he was oblivious to the amused glances [name] would give him as she attempted to search for some kind of inspiration, she was very much aware of the seemingly daze-like state the sweet placed him in. She knew of his liking for chocolate, it was a fact she often teased him about and it never failed to interest her how easily he was taken with it. Even when they were kids he could be swayed with a single piece of chocolate-flavored candy. She remembered using the confection as a means to pick up his mood when his gentler nature had him succumb to the crueler words of the other neighborhood kids.

“Osaka!” He suddenly exclaimed, stuffing the last of his cake into his mouth before refocusing his attention on his childhood friend. With him being as soft-spoken as he was, she was somewhat alarmed by the sudden excitement that crossed his countenance. She allowed him a moment to adjust himself, watching with half-lidded eyes as he hurriedly swallows his last bite. “How. . .” His face tenses as he harshly gulps and with a sigh she slides her iced tea over towards him. 

He swiftly brings the straw to his lips, taking a long sip before leaning back on his seat. He breathlessly exhaled, his features conveying his relief, and moments later there was a look of realization that crossed his visage.

“W-Weren’t you drinking that?” He motioned towards the now half-empty glass of tea and with a careless shrug, she nodded.

“Well yeah, but you looked like you needed it more.”

“In. . . direct. . .” He muttered to himself as he stared intently at the clear straw poking out from the rim of the glass. With confusion painting her features, she watched as he absentmindedly placed his fingers over his lips before mumbling something else under his breath. “. . .kiss.”

“Muku, if you’re worried about the drink, I can just order another one.”

He shook his head and with reddened cheeks, he lifted the cup from the table to take another sip. “It’s. . . fine.”

When he set his cup back down onto the table, he leaned forward to take a glance at the empty sheets of paper [name] was staring at with narrowed eyes. He’d seen music manuscripts before as they were something the older girl often carried around with her. He could tell from the furrow of her brow and the irritated twitch of her lips that she was in another one of those slumps she’d often tell him about. Inspiration never came easily to her and he knew that if she forced herself to write something, that she’d only grow more frustrated with herself. He decided a distraction was very much needed.

“How was Osaka?” He finally spoke, asking the one question he nearly choked trying to get out moments earlier. “I never heard from you after you told me you were leaving. . .”

She lifted her gaze away from the now stacked pieces of paper, the strain in her features relaxing slightly at the sight of his crestfallen expression. She was very much aware of her inability to multitask, especially when it came to juggling both her music and interpersonal relationships. She tended to tunnel vision and become negligent to those who cared for her when she wished to focus solely on the violin. 

“Sorry,” She apologized, her tone taking on a softer note to convey her sincerity. “I really wanted to win that recital and I ended up forgetting to text you. . .”

“Did you win?” 

She blinked at the soft smile directed towards her and with one of her own she nodded her head. Despite her less than stellar ability to maintain a friendship with anyone, she considered herself lucky when it came to the fact that Muku was possibly the only person who could deal with her inattentive nature. The fact that their friendship lasted for almost ten years was a testament to the strong foundation that existed between them. No matter how much she messed up or ignored the basics of keeping in contact with him, Muku was never one to turn away from her apologies. He was always there to welcome her with open arms and that shy smile she found endearing since preschool. 

“Of course I did.” 


	7. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧.

╔════════════════╗

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

╚════════════════╝

There was a pause, a step, and another bout of silence. Her ears rang with a buzz that only indicated how utterly quiet the hall she sat within truly was. She was a part of the few who were used to the silence and among those that thrived in it. Her focus was on the stand placed in front of her, [eye color] eyes skimming across the pages of music that was being introduced to her.

Her instructor, a kind face with an easily forgettable name, stood at the center of the crowd that was made up of his students. There was a smile on his face which was a usual sight for someone compassionate like himself, though she paid no mind to him nor the others that sat around her. There was the sound of pages being occasionally flipped, a distinct noise brought on by the surrounding students wishing to familiarize themselves with the newest piece of music. 

She, along with her classmates, all sat in designated groups according to the type of instruments they specialized in. She was among the strings and sitting in the coveted first seat that many of its members spared no major reluctance in handing over. Her instructor may have been the one to initially elect her for the position, due solely to her natural talent with the violin, and it was a fact that many of the orchestra members were painfully aware of. 

The sound of turning pages brought on a sense of comfort to her and she relished in the serenity that enclosed the large auditorium they occupied. The echoes of her instructor’s shoes tapping against the linoleum tile of the stage made her ears perk and with a disapproving twitch of her lip, she peered up from her sheet of music. Now that the initial silence was broken by their instructor, the other students began to follow with scattered conversations that began as whispers before slowly morphing into talking.

He stood at her side, eyes obscured by the glare of his glasses and he placed his hand on the backrest of her chair as he addressed the group she sat among. “Since this piece is more focused on strings if you find you’re having some trouble just make sure to ask your first seat for some guidance.”

He left after giving a pat to her shoulder as silent encouragement, undoubtedly due to his knowledge of her quiet nature. She merely responded by glancing away from him and towards those in her section with lips drawn into a neutral line. Her expression neither conveyed her elation nor irritation with the prospect of helping others. “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask me.” 

With her offer now out in the open for anyone in her section to take, she turned her attention back towards the front where her instructor was moving away from the cello section. His hand was raised in the air and slowly moving it downward as a way to quiet the rising volume of the teens around him.

“Practice for this song will officially start tomorrow, for now, take it home and commit your parts to memory. You all need to put forth your best in preparation for the cultural festival!” 

He ended his tangent with a soft clap of his hands and everyone immediately began gathering up their things. In crowds, they began moving towards the backstage where the rest of their stuff was stowed away. [name] followed in their actions, her movements slow and her eyes clouded with a thoughtful look that appeared absentminded to others. Her fingers skimmed across the smooth surface of the paper, her gaze focused intently on the black lined staff and straying momentarily on each printed note.

Even without the use of her instrument, she could hear the notes playing within her head and she softly hummed along. No one bothered to pay her any mind, her clubmates were much too preoccupied to leave for home for the day rather than focus on the happenings of an idle violinist.

“Tachibana, don’t take too long getting home, okay?”

She absentmindedly nodded to her teacher’s words as she placed her newest music sheet into an azure-colored folder. Her ears perked at the sound of the auditorium’s doors closing with an echoing slam. There was nothing but silence that filled the large hall now, one that was not tainted with the sounds of pages flipping or the soft breathing of focused musicians. It was just her now. Her alone among the sea of empty chairs.

Her movements lagged as she made her way towards the backstage with her violin case in one hand, and her folder in the other. The lack of people around her was surprisingly calming when it would appear as nothing less than unsettling to others. It was only the sound of her own feet tapping against the grey tiles of the backstage that filled the room, and it was only her humming that captured the attention of a certain individual awaiting her exit on the other side of the auditorium’s doors. 

It was only until she emerged from the dimly lit theater did he finally make his presence known to her. She at first passed right by him, her eyes focused on the sunlit halls of the school rather than the quiet boy who stood behind her. He still contemplated approaching her, his grip on his violin case tightening ever so slightly when he thought of how utterly nervous he was in her presence. He momentarily stared at her back as she descended the main hall that would lead to the school's entrance and after swallowing the ball of spit forming in his throat, he stepped forward and called out to her.

“Ta—Tachibana-san!” 

When she stopped and turned only her head over her shoulder, he thought his heart would stop at the blank stare she gave him. Though the look was quickly replaced when her eyes lit up somewhat in recognition. Her lips slightly parted, forming a small o as she fully turned towards him. Half of her face was basked in the afternoon sunlight that poured in through the windows lining the hall, highlighting the curvature of her features. There was a final tap of her shoes against the floor and a soft clink of her violin case settling and then there was silence. 

His nerves were beginning to get the best of him. He felt as if there was nothing better to do other than to turn away from her and act as if he _didn't_ just call her name. That was until she spoke.

"What is it, Tsukishiro-kun?"

It was then that he heard himself sputter nonsense out of nervousness to which she hadn't batted an eye at. Unlike most people who would have either turned away from him with a disappointed shake of their head or ignored him entirely to spare his anxious demeanor, she did neither of those things. She only peered at him with curiosity. She didn't grimace, her frown never became more apparent, her face gave nothing away to the irritation she might have felt that would have surely driven him away the moment he detected it. He had no excuse to give up now, not when he finally had her attention.

"Um," He tightened his hold on his violin case, knuckles turning white and eyes focusing on anything other than the girl before him. “Could you. . . help me?”

At his question, she raised a brow as her head tilted. “With what?”

He took a moment to gather his bearings and to calm his beating heart before working up the nerve to take another step forward to close the gap between them. “With the violin.” He glanced up at her face, looking for any sort of disapproval that would make itself apparent on her features, yet he once again found none. “I—I want to get better at it. . . like _you_.”

She blinked at him, taking note of his bowed head and shaky hands that tightly clenched his case. Although she was the one to offer help to those who’d ask for it, she never expected anyone to take her up on the offer. It was a matter of pride that restricted most from seeking her assistance and she couldn’t exactly judge them for it as she was the same. To her, asking for help meant to admit defeat. It was undoubtedly the last resort for the boy who she remembers as the nervous musician unable to properly play a note without waver. The thought of it alone was enough to make her feel a semblance of pity for her classmate, though not enough to truly garner any of her interest. Still, she held an obligation; not to him, but to her instructor that would have urged her to assist due to her position as the first chair.

Her silence was deafening and slowly the raven-haired male lifted his head to meet her gaze. He held the look of hope in shimmering rose-colored eyes, making her momentarily hesitate in telling him the true extent of her assistance. With a soft sigh and a hardened look taking over her usually relaxed expression, she finally spoke.

“To play like me. . . that would be impossible for you.”

Her words, although harsh, were a testament to the years she spent in the practice of the very instrument others praised her for. In the short weeks that would follow into the cultural festival, it wouldn’t be nearly enough time to cram everything she knew into his head. 

She spoke nothing but the truth, though to him it was something he didn’t wish to hear. Not when his confidence in his playing was at its lowest. His eyes lowered from her own as the feeling of shame and embarrassment burned at his cheeks. He should have known someone like her would never believe he could play on par with her talent. There was a reason people called her a musical genius and it was presumptuous of him to think he could ever compare. 

His lips curved into a quivering frown as his teeth nibbled at his bottom lip. “. . . I see.”

“But,” She spoke, her voice stopping him from turning away as he wished to do the moment he could feel shameful tears prick at the edges of his eyes. Her expression held no softness nor any indication of probable scrutiny. “I can help you become better.”

His brows knitted along with her words and the confusion he felt was genuine. He never once expected her to say anything more after unknowingly enforcing the self-doubt he felt in his skills. “But. . .”

“Don’t get me wrong, the help I’m offering you is only out of obligation. I wouldn’t be much of a leader if I refused.” She sighed as her gaze narrowed at the sight of a growing smile beginning to make an appearance on his brightened visage. She thought she came off as prideful and anything but kind, yet the look on his face made it seem as if her words _delighted_ him. “W-Why do you look so happy?”

Despite the tears she could see brimming the rims of his eyes, she could still distinctly see the elation that shined within. It utterly puzzled her how he could appear so satisfied with her less than empathetic reasoning. 

“Still,” His smile easily reached his eyes and the red that blossomed across his cheeks was now more out of bliss rather than shame. “I’m glad you’re at least going to help me, Tachibana-san.”

She silently regarded him for a moment before averting her eyes and biting the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t help the thought of the boy before her looking somewhat similar to her dear childhood friend. Their shy demeanors were all too similar.

“Come on,” She turns away from him, her violin case bouncing against her shin in protest to her quick movement as she continues her trek down the hall. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Eh?” He blinks after her figure and with only a moment’s hesitation, he rushes after her. The minute he was at her side was when he finally asked what she meant by ‘work’.

“We’re going to practice,” She simply states, her gaze completely focused on nothing other than the path before her. “At my house.”

His head bobs at her words and with parted lips, he emits a quiet _oh_. There are only a few more moments of silence as they place their indoor shoes into their respective lockers until her words finally process within his mind. “W-Wait, T-Tachibana-san!”

“Yes?” She peers over at him, a few rows of shoe lockers separating them. Her fingers deftly assisted her heel in slipping into her loafer and her brows rose at the sight of her clubmate’s hesitant features. 

“Y-You can’t just invite me to your house. . .” He clumsily slipped on his shoes, hopping on one foot to join her side. He refused to look up from the ground as they traversed out from the entrance of the school and towards the front gates. “Especially if. . . we’re going to be alone. . . _Together._ ”

“Oh, that’s what you’re worried about.” She remarked lamely, glancing at him through the side of her eye as her shoulders rose and fell in a careless shrug. “My mom’s home so we won’t _technically_ be alone.”

Her small reassurance was enough to calm the beating of his heart and with a hand placed over his chest, he heaved a breathy sigh. “. . . Thank goodness.” He didn’t know if his heart could take the fact of being alone with someone, especially a _girl_.

His ears perk at the sound of her amused laughter, his eyes lifting from the ground to look towards the violinist walking beside him. Her lips were pulled into a soft smile and her eyes were somewhat creased to convey the hilarity she found in his misplaced anxiety.

“You’re really weird, you know that?”


	8. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

╔════════════════╗

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

╚════════════════╝

The first thing she notices about him is his shaking hands. Compared to her steady fingers, his tremble with uncertainty. It caused the bow of his violin to quake in his hold. She stared at his hand, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly at the sound of another wavering note.

Her eyes flutter shut, hands dropping to her lap as she emits a hefty sigh. Another moment passes as well as another shaky note sounding throughout her room. The corner of her lip twitches and the sight of flickering colors flashing behind her closed lids upsets her.

“Why are you so nervous?” 

She suddenly speaks, the sharp tone carried in her usually soft voice causes the male seated before her to falter in his playing. He blinks down at her, watching as she idly tapped her fingers against her arm that’s folded across her chest. She sits cross-legged on the carpeted floor of her room, a low table being the only thing that separates him from her. The snacks her mother brought in an hour earlier still sit atop the table half eaten and the drinks are heavily condensed from the melting cubes of ice. 

He sits on her bed, violin in hand, and expression showcasing the disappointment he felt in himself. His eyes, the color of dusty pink roses, avert away from her quietly seething figure and instead focus in on the lone window located diagonally from her bed. From the second floor of her house, he could see the residential street of her neighborhood and the passing figures of various strangers, some of which adorning the same uniform that belonged to their school.

“There’s no need to be so tense,” She speaks up once more and he quickly glances at her only to see that she’s already looking at him. “It’s just me watching you, no one else.”

Her eyes hold no anger, though they look at him critically. It makes him feel even more ashamed of his lackluster performance and he tightly hugs his instrument closer towards his chest. She doesn’t understand his internal strife and he thinks she possibly never will.

“. . . _that’s the reason why.”_ He whispers under his breath though, in the deafening silence that enshrouds her room, she can hear him.

“Why would you be nervous around me?” She asks as her once tense features soften with the look of curiosity.

At the tilt of her head, he blushes slightly before shyly averting his gaze down to his lap where he lowers his violin from his chest to rest on the top of his knees. “Well. . .” He swallows deeply, his teeth nibbling the inside of his lip. “You’re just so. . . _amazing_.” The moment those words leave his mouth he realizes how it could be interpreted much more than he meant and with a hurried shake of his head, he quickly corrects himself. “Wi-With the violin, I mean! I can’t help but get a little nervous when I’m playing in front of you.” 

She doesn’t say anything at first and his head perks up at her silence. His gaze meets her thoughtful expression and he ignores the excitement that constricts his chest at the sight of her sharpened gaze being focused solely on him. For the longest, he believed himself unworthy of her attention due to his lackluster skill with the violin and so it felt odd to finally be on the receiving end of her attentive stare.

They continue looking at each other for a moment, him fidgeting uncomfortably under her attention and only managing to meet her gaze for a split second before nervously averting it elsewhere. It’s then that he hears a hum emit from her, one being out of resolve rather than the sigh of defeat she used moments earlier. 

_An admirer, huh?_ Her eyes fell to the slice of cake plated before her as her shoulders slumped and hands clasped together on her lap. _I’ve never had to deal with one before. . ._

While she was aware that her talent with the violin did associate her with a presence on stage, attention was never the reason for her passion. She was far too entranced with the myriad of beautiful colors produced by sound to be taken with the limelight. Her wish to play never coincided with the act of impressing others with her skill. If it weren’t for her mother’s continuous persistence in her participation in concerts, she would have kept her passion to herself and unwitnessed by anyone outside of her club and family. 

At one point she could claim ignorance to those who found inspiration in her work but now that there was someone who openly admired her playing right in front of her, that excuse wasn’t valid any longer. Her initial thought of the raven-haired male was that he was no different from the others who treated orchestra as nothing more than any other mundane obligation. She thought he held no passion in it as she did; she believed he didn’t hold enough interest in music that would ever garner her respect or companionship.

“Tsukishiro-kun,” She calls as her eyes lift from her cake and meet the sight of his meek form. “No. . . _Yuuji.”_

He jolts at the sound of his first name and he hesitantly connects his gaze with the girl seated before him. “Y-Yes?”

“Why did you approach me today?”

The question she asked took him off guard. He wasn’t expecting to be regarded with wonder by her, especially when it came to his intentions of initially approaching her. He thought his reasoning was clear enough when he admitted them in the hallways of their school though from the serious expression she looked at him with, he knew she was intending for him to answer.

“I. . .” 

He inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and steadily staring straight in her vivid [eye color] eyes. His lips were pursed and brows furrowed to convey his sincerity. The sounds of muffled passing cars and the loud chattering of a group of males fell on deaf ears when it came to the two teen violinists. Yuuji was too focused on the answer he wished to give the girl who stared so intensely at him as if she anticipated a wrong answer. Although she never specifically stated it, to him it was clear that she was looking for _something_. She was testing him, maybe to see if she should bother taking his request seriously, or maybe she just wished to see him squirm under the ferocity she unknowingly emitted. 

Despite being indecisive, there was something he was always sure about since the moment he joined the orchestra club. He wished to play alongside her, the girl who showed him the beauty of sound through her violin. 

“I want to become better. I want to play alongside everyone else at the cultural festival.” _And you_ , he wanted to say though it was far too embarrassing for him to even _think_ of uttering.

Although his resolve was displayed in his unwavering gaze, she couldn’t help but wish to assure only herself. “Are you going to take this seriously?”

His grip on his instrument tightened as did the crease between his brow. His answer was spoken without hesitance and it marked the first time she heard him talk without a nervous tone. “I am.”

She briefly mulled over his words, her head nodding in silent affirmation to something only she knew. The nerve he unknowingly built up began to crumble and he could once again feel that pit of anxiousness forming in the depths of his stomach. Her gaze returns with that sharpened critical look she held earlier in their conversation, though it disappears as soon as it arrives after she closes them to exhale a shallow sigh.

“I see.” She nods again, returning her attention onto him and this time she regards him with a look he could only guess was acceptance. “Then I won’t be holding back.” 

His meek expression washed away with confusion and he curiously raised a brow. “H-Huh? But—”

“Okay,” She softly clapped her hands together, effectively stopping him mid-sentence. Her eyes drifted to a close and her arms crossed back over her chest as her thin brows knitted together. “Play again. This time don’t think about me, only think about the music. That’s all that matters.”

Though he’s aware she cannot see it, he finds himself nodding anyway before hurriedly picking up his violin and placing it against his shoulder. His bow is twirled the right way around in his free hand and soon enough it meets the tightened strings of his instrument. 

The first note is played and immediately there is a burst of pale blue that invades the encompassing black behind her lids. The sound is steady and never wavers. For the first time since their practice session began, the colors don’t flash in a nonsensical order. They flow evenly, the hue is consistent and vibrant. It’s refreshing compared to the dullness of his earlier notes and her pleasure with the improved sound showcases itself with a smile that graces her features.

His eyes only briefly lift away from the sheet of music placed in front of him and in that short moment, he catches a glimpse of her smiling visage. [name] has always been a mysterious person to him, if not someone he found great interest in. She never showed much expression, it was only unless she was playing music that he witnessed the many faces she seemingly hid behind the look of distance. 

Never once did he think she would ever direct a pleased look towards him, especially in the presence of his mediocre playing, though it was enough to take him by surprise and ruin the rhythm he managed to maintain so far. 

The smile on her face quickly turned sour and her [eye color] eyes pried open to glare at him. “Yuuji!” She calls, her brows knitting and fingers tapping against the sides of her crossed arms with impatience. “Focus! You’re screwing up the tempo!”

He hurriedly nodded, his eyes shooting back down towards the piece of paper placed before him before placing his bow against the strings of his violin. Despite his focus once again centered on the written music, his mind couldn’t help but wander towards the image of her smiling sunbathed visage.

Truly, there was something about her that was so very inspiring. Not only did he find it in her music, but the passion she showcased for sound alone amassed a feeling of admiration to continue burning brightly within his chest. More than anything, he wanted to be regarded as she were. Looked up upon by others as someone who’s music was worth hearing.

Though he knew his limitations, the state that his skill was in now did not compete with the mastery [name] brought with each sail of her bow against the strings of her beloved instrument. At this very moment, he couldn’t even _dream_ of comparing himself to someone like her.

He may have been nothing more than a speck of dirt to her now, but he was determined to become _something more_.

The sound of music became the only thing his attention was captured by. The sound of [name]’s mother cooking downstairs and the muffled laughter of passersby who could be heard outside her room’s window, seemingly disappeared. His brows knitted together, calloused fingers gliding effortlessly across the neck of his violin as rose-colored eyes skimmed through the lines of neatly printed music notes. 

Her presence, the one which always managed to put him on edge, suddenly no longer bothered him. Like she suggested, his mind was zeroed in on the sound of the music he produced rather than his surroundings which had once overwhelmed him. 

[name]’s gaze which was closed to fully experience the color of his unique sound, was instead staring ahead at his focused visage. The light of the sun was beginning to near its end and its orangey hue cast its final rays onto the lower half of the raven-haired male’s face. 

_To think he could make an expression like that._ She mused, her lips curving into a smile that showcased the slight appreciation she felt towards his display of sincerity. Maybe, just _maybe_ , she wouldn’t come to regret accepting his request for his help.


	9. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞.

╔═══════════════╗

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

╚═══════════════╝

If he had to describe her, the first thing that came to mind was _comfort_. Their friendship, although odd, was one he greatly appreciated. Her lack of care for appearances and her complete disregard of gossip (which he liked to think was done purposefully rather than it being out of her own obliviousness), was what kept them on amicable terms and close throughout the years. 

Their friendship was by no means normal or conventional for teens their age and neither had it been since the start. He more or less acted as a sort of guide for the violinist, making sure she didn’t wander into busy streets or walk into any poles when she was too busy sticking her nose into her newest practice book. It was a duty he felt the need to take responsibility for during their childhood when his presence around her was more consistent than it was now.

He supposed that job now fell to his cousin, Muku, who lived closer to her, and from what he last heard the younger male still walked with her to school every morning. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about her getting hurt, especially with someone as overly cautious as his cousin around.

It was reminiscent moments like these that reminded Juuza of the sunnier days when life was a little simpler and there weren’t people seeking a fight with him almost daily. Though the past was a time he enjoyed looking back on when it came to his happiest memories, he never felt the need to reflect on them for too long. The very girl who occupied many of his thoughts stood right by his side and had yet to part from him despite the passing years. 

“Juuza?”

He blinks at the sound of his name, his gaze lifting from the cake display and towards the girl who stood next to him. She peers at him with silent curiosity, her eyes filled with wonder and lips slightly parted as if there was an anticipated question hanging on the tip of her tongue and knowing her, there probably was. He grunts in acknowledgment of her call and her attention returns to the glass display though her expression of keen interest never wavers. 

“Which cake do you think Muku would like?”

Thoughtfully, she tapped her left index finger against her chin while the other hand rested on her hip. To him, she appeared to be the epitome of innocent wonder and despite his reservations in reminiscing the past, he couldn’t help but be reminded of their childhood once again. The indistinguishable frown that marred his features shortly after that fleeting thought was one that was carefully noted through the side glance of his companion.

“Chocolate is still his favorite. . . isn’t it?”

She hums, lowering into a crouch before resting her elbows atop her knees. The palms of her hands cradle her face and she wistfully sighs as she draws another hum. “It is, but I don’t know which one he’d like more. . .” 

One of her hands lifts away from her cheeks and she points a delicate finger towards a decorative white iced cake. “Maybe this one?” There’s a pause and he notes the minuscule movement of her hand sliding over to point at another cake on the same row, this one colored a pale blue and adorned with candied flowers. “Or this one?”

Her hand lowers and returns to cradling the side of her face as another hum emits from her. “. . .They’re both cute.” It’s then that she looks back towards him, eyes reflecting her silent plea for his assistance.

Despite the reserved nature she preferred to display, it was a seldom known fact among strangers of how truly ditzy she was when around those she was familiar with. Juuza happened to be one of the few people who knew that her demure was created solely out of her aversion towards others. No matter how many times he was witness to it, he could never get accustomed to the fact that the passionate sincerity she expressed when it came to music wasn’t a permanent fixture in her everyday person. 

The exasperation he conveyed through his sigh was enough to cause a small smile to appear on her features. Among the two of them, Juuza was the more level headed one as he not only acted as her guide but her impulse control as well. All too often she became fixated on the violin and would unintentionally begin neglecting not only herself and her responsibilities but the people she cared for as well. He, despite all his grumbling, never failed to bring her back to reality by calling her out when her love for music went a tad too far. No matter how much he denied it, she was well aware of his care for her.

She watched with an expectant look as he turned his gaze towards the cakes she was just staring at moments ago. His sharp golden eyes, the same pair she would sometimes find the most refreshing of inspiration in, quickly switched between the two cakes she pointed out, and with a decisiveness she lacked, he quickly made his choice.

She rose back up to her full height, her eyes darting towards the area he pointed at, and with a satisfied look, she nodded her head. “Good choice. . . Juu-chan.”

The sharp look he sent her went ignored as she busied herself with purchasing three slices of the pale blue colored cake he picked out. It was only until she finally turned towards him with a white box in hand that he finally addressed her earlier words.

“We’re not kids anymore, you don’t need to call me that.”

The gruffness of his voice paired with his seemingly permanent glare would have usually been enough to drive anyone into agreeing with anything he said if only out of fear. Though [name] wasn’t just anyone and she was quick to recognize that he was feeling embarrassed rather than angry.

“Sorry,” She laughed, the smile on her face imparting no sense of sincerity in her apology. “Doesn’t this remind you of that time we picked out Muku’s birthday cake? Even if you don’t like admitting it, you’ve always had good taste in sweets.”

His gaze lowered away from her own as he turned heel towards the bakery’s entrance. “That was so long ago. . . how do you even remember that?”

“What do you mean?” She trailed behind him and only stepped past when he held the door open for her. “I have an _impeccable_ memory.”

His scoff and the slight smile that followed after it was enough to instill a warm feeling in her chest, the kind of bubbling happiness she only felt in the presence of her two closest friends. “Only when it comes to stuff that isn’t important.”

She huffed, abandoning his side to continue ahead of his pace. The box of sliced cake in her hands was tightly hugged against her chest. “Guess you don’t want your cake then.”

“Wha— Wait!”

There wasn’t much she found interest in that didn’t pertain to sound, but if there was something she valued even more than music, it had to have been the people she held dear. He might have not seen the importance of their childhood memories, but she did. Those precious memories were something she wasn’t willing to forget no matter how much she wished her mind to be ingrained with nothing but music.

It was something she hoped that he'd one day come to treasure as much as she did.

* * *

“[name], welcome home.”

Her gaze lifts from her socked feet and towards the figure of her mother who stands over her with a gracious smile on her face. [name] resumes her actions of replacing her shoes with indoor slippers before properly greeting her mother back with the same warmth.

“Kaa-san. . . I thought you were out shopping?” She steps up towards her mother, still clutching the white box of cake in her hands as she regards the older woman with a curious expression. 

“I just got back only a few minutes ago.” She answers, glancing down at the box [name] held before gently taking it off of her and turning around towards the hall where the kitchen lied. “I saw Juuza-kun walking you home. . . it’s been so long since I’ve seen him.”

The hall that led towards the kitchen was lined with old pictures of [name], her older sister, and sometimes even the two of them with their mother. None of them contained the presence of their father for obvious reasons. Her mother usually exploded into a lengthy rant at the sight of him and it wasn't like he was even present for half of [name]'s childhood for there to even _be_ a picture. It was a bittersweet feeling, one that used to bother [name] greatly until a few years ago. Now, it was a thought that rarely ever appeared in her mind.

[name] leaned against the kitchen counter nearest to the door, watching as her mother placed her boxed cake into the fridge before moving over towards the various bags of groceries sprawled across the island counter. The sun had practically disappeared, leaving the kitchen somewhat dim and lit only by the light placed above the island counter. It was only a few hours since she first met up with Juuza and talking about him now only reminded her of the many things she failed to bring up when she was in his company. Two of them being the upcoming spring festival and the recent contest she entered. 

“He’s gotten taller.” Her mother points out as she begins putting up the groceries she recently purchased. “Can you believe that you were taller than _him_ at one point?”

Although the observation was innocent and by no means offered a deeper insight than necessary, [name] couldn’t help but find herself thinking about her mother’s words carefully. Since Juuza’s move from their neighborhood that separated him from herself and Muku, this wasn’t the first time they’ve met up. 

Despite attending different middle schools back then, he still made an effort to seek her out during the weekends and the two of them hung out as if nothing changed. She’d force him to hear her play the violin, appreciating his blunt opinion and rewarding him various sweets in return. Though the only thing that she could never comprehend was what exactly her violet haired companion got from their repeated visits with each other. Juuza wasn’t exactly someone who could faithfully keep a friend. As much as she resented it, there were far too many people who took his appearance in at face value and avoided him like the plague. She supposed that even someone like him still gets lonely and maybe that was what kept him from breaking their ties. It wasn't like she was against his presence as she'd unashamedly admit he and Muku were a great source of drive for her and she was more than welcoming to the idea of having the two of them stay in her life. 

“Actually, now that I think about it, I’m surprised he’s even still hanging out with you.” At her mother’s words, [name]’s face takes on the look of surprise, and her lips part to gape incredulously. The woman laughs, eyes crinkling with mirth as she gently pats [name]’s arm. “You’ve just always been so scattered brained and not to mention your obsession with music that it’s a wonder how someone as serious as him can stand to be around you.”

“Jeez, you make me sound unbearable. . .”

“Don’t worry,” She reassured as she retracted her hand and busied herself with starting dinner. “I’m sure he finds that endearing about you.”

“I hope so or it’ll be pretty awkward the next time we see each other.”

“Speaking of which, how long have you been seeing him? And how come Muku-kun wasn’t there with you two?” Her mother’s brows rise and although her gaze never picks up from the vegetable she idly washes, [name] knows that she’s expecting an answer. 

“Since middle school started. . . so six years ago? He usually refuses to come anywhere near the house so I’m assuming he’s avoiding Muku for some reason. This was the first time in a while he’s walked me home.”

“A fight?” Her mother hums, glancing over her shoulder towards [name] with brows knit in concern. “Has Muku said anything?”

[name] shrugs. “I never asked.”

“Oh, well.” Her mother returns to washing vegetables after tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “You keep being a good friend to both of them. . . I’m sure they both would appreciate that.”

It was a subtle way of her mother reminding her to let the matter go. It was clear that neither Juuza nor Muku wished to talk about it as it had never come up before and [name] was far too oblivious of her surroundings to notice if something was going on between them. She once had chalked Juuza’s reluctance in coming near her home as him not wanting to endure her mother’s smothering if she were to see him once more. It never once occurred to her that there was something else deterring him from coming over.

Maybe she _should_ ask rather than ignore it.


	10. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐧.

╔═══════════════╗

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

╚═══════════════╝

“Tachibana-san?”

At the sound of her name, [name] lifted her gaze from the various pages of music sheet spread out before her. The bow belonging to her violin halted in its movement and with parted lips, she curiously gaped at the male standing in the doorway of the music practice room. 

Sunlight streamed in from the open windows beside her and in the distance she could hear the shouting of some teens playing soccer. Among the sound of gently swaying trees and the buzz of cicadas, there was a breeze that carried the scent of spring. To her, it was a comforting smell and it filled her with a sense of ease that assisted with her focus. The sudden intrusion of a familiar face, despite his importance to her, was somewhat unwelcomed. Still, she regarded him with the face of patience and he took her silence as his cue to continue. 

“I didn’t know you spent lunch break in here.” His friendly smile burns all irritation she felt moments ago and he steps further into the room until he stands right before her seated figure. “I can see why though, it’s really quiet in here, isn’t it? 

His eyes have yet to meet her own and instead, they wander the perimeter of the room with blatant curiosity. It’s obvious to her that he’s never stepped a foot into the music room until now and it’s a bit endearing to see how in awe he seems to be with it. 

“It is,” She confirms with the smallest of smiles on her face and when he finally looks down at her, he’s surprised to see her giving him her full attention. “I like to come here and practice when you’re having lunch with Usui-kun.”

At the mention of the younger male’s name, her smile falters and her gaze falls back to the sheets of paper before her. Sakuya garners a sheepish expression and he mentally notes to not bring up the subject of Masumi again. In an attempt to find something else to talk about, his gaze averts towards the violin she clutched in her hand and his smile brightens once more. 

“Anyway, how’s songwriting coming along?” When she glances back up from the music stand, his expression shifts nervously with the sudden thought of asking something far too personal of her. “I mean. . . if you’re okay with telling me.”

He, like anyone who knew [name] on a base level, was aware of just how much music meant to her. It’s always been apparent to him that she took her passion seriously and a part of him could relate to her ardor even if his lied elsewhere. Like anyone who loved their craft, he expected that she’d be reluctant in sharing that aspect of herself, though he was proven wrong by the return of her smile.

She looked up at him, eyes shining slightly, almost as if she were excited at the prospect of sharing her otherwise private hobby with him. It was the first time he’d ever seen her hold such expression and the light flutter he felt in his chest was one of the more obvious effects her sudden change in appearance had on him.

“I don’t mind sharing,” She assures and soon her smile dims into an embarrassed one and she averts her gaze down to her lap where she holds her violin. “After all, it was you who helped me get this far. . .”

Without even looking up at him, she could practically imagine the confused look that would undoubtedly appear on Sakuya’s features. The thought of having to explain herself causes her cheeks to redden and she inwardly appreciates the fact that her long hair curtained her blush from his gaze. 

“Eh? I helped you? How?” His head is tilted and pink eyes blink curiously at her flustered demeanor. 

It was odd to see the usually oblivious violinist who either ignored social cues all together or was just unaware of them, to be acting so abashed. Patience was one of the many things Sakuya had to exhibit when it came to conversing with [name]. She was by no means frustrating or even difficult to deal with, it was mainly her aversion to revealing anything she considered personal. Music was one of those things she considered dear to her and unless she was choosing to play for others, she rarely shared the sheets of manuscript she seemed to have always been scribbling on during her free time. There were moments when they shared their lunch that she was close to yielding some of that passion with him, he could see it in her eyes when they’d suddenly glint with life only to dim a moment later along with her purposefully changing the subject. Despite her reluctance to admit it, she and Masumi were alike in that regard. Both of them being people who’d seldom allow others in.

He watched her fidget in her seat uncomfortably for a few more seconds, his face softening into a smile as he wordlessly waited for her to speak. He fell into the seat across from her, his gaze never leaving her figure. She slowly lifted her eyes back towards his and he tried his best not to grin at the remnants of red splotching her cheeks and giving away her fading blush. 

“You. . . you’re my muse.” When she witnessed the rise of his brow and his lips parting to ask her what she meant, the blush she desperately tried to hide bloomed across her cheeks once more. She promptly lowered her head, her grip on her instrument tightening as she rushed to cover her fluster with conversation. “N-Nevermind. Do you want to hear it or not?” 

Without waiting for his answer, she quickly placed her violin against her shoulder and raised her bow with her other hand. The music room, which was once filled with nothing but their voices, had quieted until there was only the sound of a violin’s song. It was mellow, each string being played with a precision that even an untrained ear like Sakuya’s was able to pick up. It melded pleasantly with the spring breeze that flowed in from the open windows and it carried a refreshing sensation that reminded him of a distant memory. If there was a way to describe the song, he could only compare it to nostalgia. It filled his chest with an unknown feeling of longing for something he had no grasp of and the wistful smile that appeared on his face was one that came naturally.

The melody she played differed from the one she performed for her sister. It was lighter in tone and carried quixotic notes that inspired a dreamy sense. The sound completely contrasted the somber drawn tones of the aforementioned song. Sakuya pondered the reason for the difference in tune for either song, though that was an answer only [name] could provide and it was already enough to have her willingly play for him. He was sure that she’d close back up the moment he asked for anything more.

His gaze roved the expanse of her face, soaking in the smallest details of her visage that he wouldn’t normally openly stare at. Her eyes were shut, long lashes fanned against her cheeks and her lips were pursed into a tight line. The crease seen in her brow was a gesture of the focus she placed intently into her craft. It was an expression that suited her best, in his opinion, and an aspect of her that he admired greatly. He could still catch sight of red dusting her cheeks, a testament to her earlier embarrassment and it reminds him of the words spoken by her older sister.

_To think she still gets embarrassed with just a_ little _attention. . . I can't help but think it's adorable though.'_

The director was right. [name] _is_ adorable. 

The song soon came to an end and with its fade came a feeling of solace. Music had rarely ever encompassed emotion over him, yet hers had done so with ease. The notes seemingly echoed in his mind and he found himself wanting to hear it once more. Her eyes fluttered open, quickly lifting to meet his and in them he could see her anticipation. 

“I’m not finished with it yet, but. . . what did you think?” She worriedly bites the inside of her cheek and it does nothing but add to the expectant look she wears. 

It isn’t like her to hold someone other than Izumi’s opinion so high, she’s always felt so confident in her skills and the knowledge of her talent had only reinforced the idea that she could impress just about anyone. Though with the introduction of Sakuya into her life and him unknowingly being important to her, she suddenly felt the onset of nerves pull at the pit of her stomach. The thought of him disliking her music genuinely unnerved her. Sakuya wasn’t just _anyone_ , he was her muse; the person who inspired the very song she just played for him. If he didn’t like it, it would only echo her failure as a musician.

“It’s really good!” He hums, his cheerful smile unwavering. “It’s different from the other song you played—”

The words spill from his mouth before he could stop them and he hurriedly places his hand over his lips to shut himself up. Right after he inwardly swore not to bring up the difference in songs, he goes right ahead and does that very thing. There was a pause of silence that passed between them and he quickly parts his lips to throw out something akin to an apology for prying.

“U-Um—” 

“Well, I made that song for my sister, so of course it sounds different from yours.”

Of all the things he expected from her response, this wasn’t it. He expected her to be angry or even passively imply that her reasons weren’t any of his business, but instead he received a surprisingly open answer. Her features held no semblance of hostility, like the sharpened glare she’d throw at the mention of Masumi, instead she looked completely unbothered. Still, he couldn’t help but gape at her with an astonished expression.

“You. . . you’re not mad?”

She tilts her head, lips shaped into a small ‘o’. “Why would I be mad? We’re friends aren’t we? I don’t mind if you ask about my music.”

There’s another brief pause that passes between them and slowly Sakuya’s expression loosens into one of relief. The affirmation of their friendship caused his lips to perk into a smile once more and the fluttery feeling in his chest returned in full force. He didn’t realize how nice it was to have that assurance that he wasn’t the only one who thought of [name] as a friend. She, the ever eccentric musician who couldn’t seem to relate to anyone on a personal level, thought of _him_ as a _friend_. That thought alone instilled an odd sense of pride within him.

“Tachibana-san,” He calls and she looks up from her violin case, halting in her movements of placing her instrument back into its rightful place. In her line of sight, he presents a ticket to her in the hand he retrieves from the pocket of his blazer. “Would you mind coming to see the play that I’m in?” 

"It would really make me happy if you came to support me."


	11. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧.

╔═════════════════╗

𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐔𝐬

╚═════════════════╝

Tsukishiro Yuuji could not confidently consider himself talented at anything. He was not a musical genius like Tachibana [name], or an exceptional athlete like his older brother, Yukito. 

As much as he was content with being able to bask in their brilliance, he couldn’t help but possess the underlying feeling of inadequacy. The quiet violinist, whom he’d come to recently befriend, was one of the two people he’d openly admit to admiring greatly. Her skill with the violin was unparalleled, a sentiment he’s held since the day he saw her one of her first performances as a child. 

Even back then, her demeanor was more or less the same. She was uncaring of the audience who observed her every move and only paid any mind to the music she played. It was a feat that he could only dream of achieving, especially now when his nerves skyrocketed at even the _thought_ of performing in front of others. 

How could someone like him ever hope to perform for their school's cultural festival if he couldn’t even muster the courage to stand before his clubmates? To play the violin on the same level as the girl he admired was an admittedly far off dream. Even [name] herself confessed that it was impossible for him to play anything like her and that was said without an ounce of doubt.

_Still. . ._

The coffee-colored wooden bow he clutched in his hand felt so very heavy at that moment. The doubts that clouded his mind were ones created out of his own volition and was only reinforced when he continued making the mistake of comparing himself to someone as sensational as [name]. Yet despite everything; the whispered words of uncertainty and affirmation of his lack of skill, Yuuji wanted nothing more than to continue playing music.

_I don’t wanna give up. . ._

There was something that persisted between himself and [name], an understanding that may have created the unlikely friendship between them in the first place. The two of them shared an undeniable passion for creating music, abided only by their tenacious nature and love for the same delicate instrument they played. His determination to better himself and his craft were what undoubtedly kept [name] around. It was clear even before he had ever garnered the nerve to approach her that she was very much against wasting her time with people who lacked a drive for anything. It was a notion apparent from how closed off she purposely made herself in order to keep anyone who lacked nerve from approaching her. 

He supposed he was once one of the people she intended to ignore and it was only due to a rare spike of courage that he was able to prove himself to her. Now, she sits before him, staring at him with a patient gaze. 

Her hands are loosely intertwined together and sitting atop her lap while her lips curve into a delicate smile. It’s a gentle expression, one that he only sees on her face when she’s playing one particular melody. He doesn’t realize how focused his stare is on her, not until the sound of his instructor’s gentle clap startles him out of his stupor. 

“Now, Tsukishiro-san,” The tone of his instructor’s voice teeters with jest. “Hopefully you’ve come more prepared than last time.”

He cringes at the reminder of his less than stellar performance done the previous week and for a moment he feels the little confidence he gathered beginning to crumble. It’s only due to the reassuring nod [name] gives him when he nervously casts a last glance towards her that he consoles himself.

Since the last time he’s sat in the seat before the rest of the orchestra club, he’s progressed greatly in terms of skill. It was undoubtedly due to the almost daily after school assistance provided from [name] but he’d like to think that it was also earned through his sheer efforts. 

With bated movement, he lifted his violin up to his shoulder as his dominant hand rose with his bow clutched between his fingers. The ball of spit that formed in the back of his throat was harshly swallowed and as much as he wanted to ignore the feeling of his classmates' staring, it was a sensation that became so painfully obvious as the seconds passed by.

_'Don’t mind them. . .’_ He could hear the echo of [name]’s voice reverb through his head. Despite the stern tone she used, he could still detect the underlying hint of softness that conveyed her concern for him. The words were ones she spoke to him previously, though they now served as encouragement for him. _‘Focus on the music, Yuuji. That’s all that matters right now.’_

He sharply inhales, calming his nerves with the exhale that follows. Even in his thoughts, she was always right. Music should be the only thing on his mind. Not the thoughts of his classmates or the prickling sensation their gazes gave him. His eyes fell to the music stand placed before his seat and with a much clearer mindset than before; he began to play.

* * *

Music wasn’t difficult for her to understand; it was straightforward and to the point, unlike people. Notes printed upon sheets of lined paper could be read with precision and played according to what is directed. People and their ever-changing emotions could not be so easily understood. Her lack of awareness for the feelings of others as well as her obsession with classical music made her into someone who could not relate effortlessly with her peers. Music was her only comfort and although she'd never admitted it aloud, it was something she used to fill in the lack of company she often kept. She would not go so far as to completely disregard the friendships she's kept, her childhood friends were people she relied on more than they could ever imagine and she felt grateful to them for putting up with her for as long as they did; though that did not cover for the fact that they couldn't be around her as much as she would like them to be. 

With their absence, she filled that space with her love for the violin and because of that, her talent grew immeasurably. 

Her skill was something she often thought about, especially in regards to her own musical genius. Instruments came easier to her, each string or press of a key created a different sound and it never proved to be difficult for her to create a song. As a child, she thought that these things were simple for anyone to do.

It was a belief quickly proven wrong during her first performance at a youth recital. The kids there, her competition, played shaky notes that muddled the colors their sound produced and held nervous dispositions that made it apparent how new they were to perform in front of others. Among them, there were also children who were the complete opposite. They exuded an air of confidence when they took the stage almost as if they were _expecting_ to win. As much as such certainty in their own talent was refreshing to see amongst tear-streaked faces, even their music held inconsistencies that were so obvious through the color of each note. In the end, the results were so painstakingly obvious of who among them would win.

The moment she walked onto that stage with her small violin in hand, the world did not matter. The eyes of her audience did not bother her nor did the murmurs of her unusually calm appearance. The only thing that occupied her mind was the itch to play that she often experienced since the very first moment she lied her hands on her chosen instrument. She was used to the eyes of strangers as it was something she quickly got accustomed to after making the conscious decision to play the violin everywhere and anywhere she went. When it came to her talent she felt no need to hold herself back. With her persistence, she dedicated most of the time she could have used playing with friends, to the instrument she fell in love with. Her tenacity was what earned her the talent she possessed and was what gave her the first of many victories.

_Her_ name was the one printed at the top of that scoreboard with the bright red 500/500 next to it. Yet that feeling, the one that she believed would have bloomed within her chest akin to the sensation she felt when she mastered a sheet of music she’d practiced so hard on, never surfaced. She remembered standing next to her mother, blankly staring up at the board and feeling absolutely _nothing_ over her supposed victory. No sense of accomplishment, relief, or even a surge of pride. Nothing about her win had given her as much satisfaction or happiness as she felt when creating a new song. Her lack of elation with the results almost made her feel as if she didn’t _deserve_ to win.

When she left that day, her smaller hand clutching the larger one of her mother who bore a bright and proud grin, the sight of the crestfallen expressions of her competition lingered on her mind. 

Tsukishiro Yuuji, a boy who approached her with apprehension, was someone she didn’t expect much out of. From the little she knew of him before his request for her assistance, he never once showed much drive for the instrument she held dear to her. Truthfully she thought any time spent practicing with him would have been time wasted. 

Yet looking at him now, the steady sound of his violin and serene expression, her thoughts were once again proven wrong. Yuuji was different from her. He wasn’t talented with music, neither was he able to make any real impact with his sound. He followed the notes of music with mediocrity and his technique was nothing remarkable, yet he possessed a strong determination to better himself. The difficulty of the violin eluded her, she could never understand how anyone could have trouble with mastering it as she did. Yuuji often remarked how enviable her talent was and the clear admiration he felt for her was a sentiment she often overlooked.

She never found her skill to be one that deserved admiration. If anything, she thought Yuuji deserved to be appreciated more than her. His commitment to music was one of the only things she could completely understand about him and was what initially earned her respect. She found his want to become better a desire she wished she could possess. Contradiction to what he thought of himself, she found him to be a source of great encouragement. He made her _want_ to discover new sounds as well as be the person to help him reach his full potential. 

The song he played, the one the two of them spent a whole week attempting to perfect, was done just the way she taught him to. The colors his sound produced were similar to her own, though they held a distinction that made her lips curl in satisfaction. He was overcoming his nerves as well as improving his confidence in his own skill. Although this was only an exercise to garner the skill of each individual member of the orchestra, it was still a challenge to someone as insecure as Yuuji. 

The only hope she held was to be around long enough to see him become as good as she believed he could be.


	12. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞.

╔════════════════╗

𝐒𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲

╚════════════════╝

“How come you didn’t tell me about your performance at your school’s cultural festival?!”

Izumi’s voice rose along with her every word and the frown that was apparent on her face was enough to convey her discontent with the topic. The members of the spring troupe stood a little ways behind her, unintentionally eavesdropping in on the lively conversation she had with the person they assumed was her younger sister. 

“And _don’t_ give me that excuse about—” With the hand that isn’t clutching her phone to her ear, she mockingly air quotes. “— _‘forgetting’_ again!” 

Sakuya helplessly stared at the sight before him, a wry smile picking up at the ends of his lips as he silently apologizes to the younger Tachibana for bringing forth Izumi’s unexpected wrath. Next to him, Tsuzuru stands with his arms crossed over his chest and head curiously tilted at the dramatic hand gestures idly thrown by their beloved director. Masumi watches from Sakuya's other side with equal curiosity, though he opts to quietly observe the older woman in an attempt to memorize the various expressions she wears.

“What’s got her so worked up?” Tsuzuru piques up, his brow rising at Izumi’s agitated demeanor. 

“I might have mentioned Tachibana-san’s upcoming performance at the cultural festival. . .” Sakuya sheepishly admits and it trailed off as a gasp of indignation emitted from the woman standing before them.

“Wha— Of _course_ I care! I _love_ seeing you play!” There’s a small pause before Izumi’s shoulders slump and she exasperatedly shakes her head. “No, don’t worry about her. . . we’re not fight— _okay_ , _fine_. We _are_ fighting. . . but only a _little_. Still doesn’t excuse you for not inviting me.” 

“She doesn’t look like it, but I guess [name]-chan could be quite the troublemaker.” 

“[name]?” Citron hums from the other side of Tsuzuru. His brows are tightly knitted together and his eyes stare up towards the ceiling as he tries recalling where he heard the name before. “Oh! You mean the violinguist! Yes, I remember her. She played very well.”

“Vio. . . linguist?” Itaru echoes, a crease apparent in the middle of his brow.

_“Violinist_.” Tsuzuru, Citron’s sole interpreter, corrects with a tired sigh. “I’m pretty sure that’s what he meant.”

“That’s correct, Tsuzuroon!”

“Please don’t call me that.” Tsuzuru groans whilst throwing a half-hearted glare at Itaru who does a terrible job at concealing his laughter. It’s only been a few days since Kazunari showed up to assist the company and already it seemed as though Citron was adamant on using the ridiculous nickname the excitable blond addresses Tsuzuru with. 

Sakuya smiled lightly in the trio’s direction, his gaze only lingering on their forms for a moment longer before returning towards the director. Izumi, who was once slowly pacing back and forth before them, suddenly stopped in her tracks. She lowered her phone away from her ear and stared down at the black screen before muttering something just loud enough for Sakuya and the others to hear.

“. . . She hung up on me.”

Her words were ripe with disbelief and it quickly captured the attention of the five who observed her with curious expressions. There’s a sigh that escapes her lips as she tucks her phone into her pocket and the simple smile she regards them with the moment she turns to face them, is one that isn’t as bright as her usual ones.

“Sorry for the interruption,” She dryly laughs. “Where were we again?”

There was a call of concern among the members of the spring troupe and they all shared a concerned glance before Sakuya willed himself to ask the one question on their collective mind.

“Are—Are you okay, director?”

“Yeah, I am.” Her smile relaxes into one that appears more genuine and at her reassurance, the five males’ concern is momentarily washed away. “I’m just more worried about [name] than anything else.”

“Why? Isn’t she supposed to be preparing for a competition soon or something?” Itaru asks with brows tightly creased together and lips settled into a small frown. 

“Well, yeah, that too. Her club is apparently doing something for Hanasaki’s cultural festival. . . but she never bothered telling me about it. If it weren’t for Sakuya, I’d probably have never figured it out.” Izumi’s smile briefly drops and her eyes fall towards the linoleum floor. “Besides, it’s not like this is the _first_ time it’s happened. . . [name] gets so focused on other things that she forgets about the people who care about her.”

“But it’s fine,” Izumi gently shakes her head, another smile picking up at the ends of her lips as she looks between the five before her. “Music is something she loves after all. I can’t fault her for that.”

Before Citron or anyone else could offer her a word of assurance or even say something to lighten the mood, she advances towards the oldest of the spring troupe and gently urges them back towards the center of the practice room. 

“Come on, enough waiting around, we have only a few days until showtime and I want to make sure _everyone_ has their lines down!” There’s a grin brightening her features that makes the boys almost believe the somber expression she wore moments earlier was just a figment of their imagination. 

The only two left behind are Sakuya and Masumi who stare after her figure with differing expressions of concern. Out of the two high school boys, Masumi’s unease for the director was more concealed. The only indication of his worry for her was the light crease in his brow and the muttered words Sakuya could barely catch.

“Troublesome. . .” His frown deepened at the thought of Izumi’s earlier expression and unconsciously, he clenched his fists that lie idle at his sides. Sakuya’s ears perked at the sound of his voice and he glanced over at the two-toned haired boy with raised brows. “That girl. . . is an idiot.”

“Masumi-kun,” Sakuya calls with tightly knitted brows and confusion apparent on his features. “Who are you talking about?”

The younger boy doesn’t say anything in response, only offering a dismissive grunt before beginning his stride towards where the others were. His mind was much too occupied with a thought, one that involved the younger Tachibana and the words he wished to impart with her. He thought it was about time they had a conversation anyway.

* * *

“How was that?”

Her eyes are narrowed and they stare directly at the raven-haired male seated before her. He squirms under her scrutiny and even though they spent the better parts of their days together, he was still somewhat unnerved by how critical she regards him.

The hazy afternoon light floods in through the unobstructed large windows of the soundproof room they occupy. She sits with her back against the sun which causes the light to highlight the outline of her figure. She appears ethereal to him, it’s a fleeting thought he doesn’t focus much on but the moment it appears he cannot stop the embarrassed flush that colors his cheeks. He is almost thankful for the light that blinds him due to the positioning of sitting opposite to her and facing the sun in all its glory. The heat melds perfectly with that of his rosy cheeks and it provides cover from the keen eyes of the female violinist. Whether she notices his blush or not is a mystery he isn’t so eager to solve. He liked to think he knew the girl enough to realize she was quite oblivious to the adoration he directed towards her and so his hope lied in the greatest possibility of her ignorance. 

It’s been a few weeks since they started practicing together and for him, these days were spent with him showing some improvement, and to top things off, he and [name] were becoming something akin to friends. 

Although he could never imagine someone like her becoming a companion to him, there was no denying that she wasn’t at least getting more comfortable in his presence. She no longer spoke in curt sentences that offered no room for conversation and instead, she was the one who prompted questions to get to know him better. 

It was refreshing to see her become something more than just the girl he admired from afar. To hear her thoughts on things and to see the subtle expressions of excitement at even the mention of music was truly endearing. She was honest in her opinion of his performance and detailed when it came to providing advice. It made him wonder why he ever hesitated for so long in asking for her help.

“You did good.” She finally concludes after a pause of silence. “I think you’re ready for tomorrow. . . as long as you don’t get nervous in front of the audience.”

Yuuji timidly laughed, a shaky grin making its appearance on his lips. Just thinking about the sheer amount of people that would be sitting in the school’s auditorium and their eyes all focused on him was enough to make him break out in a nervous sweat. His stagefright was still an apparent challenge he wished to overcome and slowly he was making progress. It was mainly due to [name]’s continued support of him and helpful suggestions that he was able to push himself through the small practice he did the other day in front of the rest of their clubmates.

“It doesn’t bother me as much anymore.” His shaky grin steadies into a grateful smile, one that is filled with his silent appreciation for her. “After listening to the advice you gave me, I think I can do it.”

She returns his smile with one of her own and he briefly notes how much more easily her smiles appear compared to before. Her lips part and just as she was about to say something, the door to the music practice room swings open and the sound of it interrupts her.

Noticing where her focus lied, Yuuji twisted in his seat towards the person who stood at the threshold of the door. With black hair obscuring a small portion of blond and violet colored eyes narrowed in a seemingly agitated stare, Usui Masumi was the one who stood in the practice room’s doorway and the one to interrupt an otherwise quiet evening. 

There wasn’t much Yuuji knew about the second year other than the fact that he seemed to be very popular among his female classmates. Though there was one thing that was as clear as day, a boy like him had nothing to do with the orchestra club, and therefore, he didn’t have a reason to be anywhere close to this side of the school. If it wasn’t obvious enough, there was another reason why he was here. Yuuji didn’t know much of anyone besides those in his class and those within his club. It didn’t take a genius to guess who else the stoic male was here for and soon enough Yuuji’s gaze dragged back over towards [name] whose expression was none too kinder. 

“Usui-kun, why are you here?” 

The tone of voice she uses to address him is cold and indifferent and it briefly reminds Yuuji of the same tone she once used with him when they were nothing more than strangers. It truly puts into perspective how far they’ve come as friends that she now speaks to him more warmly in comparison.

“I need to talk to you,” He finally responds after a tense passage of silence. There’s a moment his gaze briefly flickers down towards Yuuji and it becomes strikingly obvious that he’s an outsider in this conversation. “ _Alone._ ”

[name] heaves a sigh as she rises from her seat, violin case in one hand, and her school bag in the other. “Yuuji, we’ll talk later okay?”

He barely has time to register her farewell, only managing a small wave, before she’s out the door following behind the younger male. Now by himself, Yuuji internally questions what Usui Masumi could want with [name] and why the two seemed to have harbored a mutual dislike for each other. His curiosity was pressing and it itched at him to find out the answer with any means necessary. As much as he disliked the idea, eavesdropping seemed to have been a viable option to take in a situation like this.


	13. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧.

╔════════════════╗

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

╚════════════════╝

If there was one thing that Izumi was sure of, it was that her younger sister preferred music far over anything else in this world.

It was a fact the older Tachibana became familiar with during their childhood when [name] would refuse to play with other children her age, which included Izumi. It somewhat hurt to be rejected by her younger sister, but music was something [name] greatly enjoyed. Izumi was satisfied with just being able to witness the younger girl look anything other than misplaced. Even as a child no older than ten, Izumi knew that her sister was a little different from most. She was quiet, barely ever speaking a word to anyone and when she did it was usually utter nonsense over colors. That didn’t even account for her laughably short attention span that Izumi swore could only last a few seconds at a time. As endearing as it was to _her_ , it most definitely wasn’t to the other kids in [name]’s class.

Cruel words and subtle jabs were often directed towards her younger sister and caught by Izumi when she’d pick up [name] from school. She always put a stop to them the moment she’d hear a group of kids uttering her sister’s name, and more than once she'd intercepted a group crowding around the younger girl. [name] seemingly paid no attention to, or she didn’t notice, their teasing. '[name] spent an awfully lot of time alone', that was something Izumi overheard the girl’s teacher tell their mother and that might have been the reason why she felt it was her duty as an older sister to protect her.

That was when the violin first made its appearance in [name]’s life. Their mother, who was unsure how to handle an unhappy child, thought it would be best to urge [name] to redirect her focus onto something else that didn’t pertain to school. 

_'Music can be a form of therapy!’_ She remembers her mother saying as she handed [name] a small violin case. _‘Learn to play it really good in time for Izumi-chan’s birthday, okay?’_

She vividly remembers peering into the large bay window of their living room from the outside, watching her sister experimentally pluck at the strings of her recently gifted violin. There was a subtle excitement apparent in her expression, one that was completely undetectable to anyone who hadn’t known her as well as Izumi. Never had her sister made such a look in regards to anything and for the longest of time, Izumi believed the younger girl was perpetually unhappy. The slight tilt of her lips and the lively shimmer of her [eye color] eyes was enough proof of [name]’s newfound ardor and it was then that Izumi realized there _was_ something her sister could be passionate about after all.

The day her eleventh birthday rolled around, it was spent in the presence of her family with even their father making a brief appearance and departing once he’d given Izumi her gift. Though what most excited her was not the numerous presents, or her specially made cake, but the song [name] played for her that evening. It was a shaky rendition of the opening song of the show the two of them often watched together. It was by no means played well, but it was obvious how much effort [name] put into memorizing the melody and each distinct note. The splitting grin she displayed afterwards, looking up at Izumi with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, made the gesture all the more sweeter.

_'Did you like it, onee-chan?’_ She asked, her chubby cheeks becoming rosier as her shyness settled in. _‘I spent all week trying to get it right for you.’_

Izumi can’t ever remember what exactly she said that day, but she does recall gathering her sister into the tightest hug and the feeling of tears pricking at the edges of her eyes. She remembers not understanding why her sister’s gift was enough to make her cry and it was only a few years later that she somewhat gained a better grasp. 

Maybe music might have been the whole world to her younger sister, but to Izumi, [name] was the person she loved and cared for the most and no matter what; she’d always be there to support her.

Even if that meant being left behind.

* * *

“So what do you want?” There’s a slight edge in her voice, a tone that conveys her irritation with the male’s interruption of her practice time. “I have a performance soon and you’re kind of cutting into my time.”

Her remark is met with silence and soon enough the echo of his footsteps in front of her comes to an abrupt halt. Her eyes, which had once been focused on the passing outside scenery of the school’s courtyard, drift over towards the younger male’s back as she too stops in her tracks. The silence persists, though it fails to bring awareness of its edge to her and she ignorantly believes it's only due to him blatantly ignoring her words. She steps to his side, head tilting slightly to get a better view of his features obscured by the raven locks that curtain his face. 

The orange haze of the afternoon light floods in through the windows lining the hall and it serves as a reminder of the approaching night. Still, it holds a warmth that kisses the exposed skin of her legs and a partial amount of her hands. The harsh shadows that are casted across the hall's cream and beige colored interior severely contrast, and on the linoleum floor she can see her own shadow moving towards the idle one of the boy in front of her.

“I thought you said—”

“You’re selfish, you know.” 

She’s never really been good at these kinds of things. Social interaction and the like have always failed to be understood by her. She preferred things to be simple and straight to the point. She hated hidden feelings and concealed bitterness. To her, she thought it would be easier if people would just _say_ how they felt rather than keeping it secret. 

“The director’s doing all she can to support you and you can’t even be bothered to at _least_ talk to her every once in a while?”

His tone is sharp and harsh and the glare he regards her with the moment he turns towards her is one she visibly recedes at. As ignorant and oblivious as she is of social cues, she knows the tone of an angered person all too well. Violet eyes narrowed and brows tightly furrowed, she notes that his expression reminds her of the one her mother wore at the mention of her father. She could feel a spike of panic pinching at her chest and despite it being painful, she does nothing more than tighten her hold on the handle of her case. 

“Do you even realize how much she does for you or is music the only thing you can _ever_ think about?” When he steps closer to her, she finds herself unconsciously backing away. “You don’t even know how sad you make her when you ignore her like that, do you?”

For every step he makes advancing towards her, she takes one or two back. It’s only until her back softly presses against the opposite wall that she finally realizes she’d been cowering away from him. She blinks, slowly processing his words before her mouth curves into a defiant frown.

“What’s it matter to you?” She harshly swallows the ball of spit that forms in the back of her throat. Her brain wracks itself for any sensible reason Masumi may have had to confront her about something she already knew far too well. “What goes on between my sister and I has _nothing_ to do with you. Stay out of it.”

She doesn’t want to admit it. She doesn’t want to say it. It’s far too painful to face by herself. She’s far too aware of how terrible of a person she is, does she _need_ to be reminded by a total stranger? 

The scoff that emits from him and the disapproving shake of his head sparks a feeling of irritation within her. “You really _don’t_ get it. . . you have someone who cares a lot about you and yet. . .”

His expression suddenly shifts, losing its harsh edge and taking on a more distant look. She’s not allowed to look at it for long as he quickly turns himself away from her. “Forget it. Talking to you is a waste of time.”

With a hand clutched close to her chest, she watches as he continues down the rest of the hall, only his lone set of footsteps resounding throughout the secluded corridor.

Though it was only brief, [name] thought she saw a familiar look flash across his eyes before he turned away from her. She recognized it as the look of loneliness. 

It seemed as though she and Usui Masumi were much more alike than she initially thought.

* * *

The streets she was so used to walking in the early mornings and afternoons looked so vastly different bathed in the dim light of dusk. Stars faintly glimmered from above and although they had yet to make their complete appearance in the sky, they were still a dazzling sight to the girl who stared up at them in wonder.

She felt as if she were in a daze. Her mind was blank and her face expressing nothing other than a childish look of awe. The earlier argument she had with the boy who’s held her contempt from the start, was something that eventually faded into the back of her mind. It wasn’t as though she were trying to ignore it, that was impossible as his words would occasionally echo within the confines of her head. She could clearly remember the relentless tone he used against her as well as his startling glare. 

Her stare off with the stars above as she walked home served as nothing more than a distraction rather than a means to ignore the turmoil brewing in her head. She was well aware of her inability to focus on more than one thing, it was often a point of teasing Izumi would use against her. Never had she thought it was also something that _hurt_ her. 

_‘How can you be so good at playing the violin but terrible at multitasking?’_ The memory of her sister’s cheery smile and infectious laugh made her chest sting with the lingering feeling of regret.

She _should_ have seen it. Maybe she did and was only ignoring it until it was finally thrown in her face in the form of an unwanted confrontation. She didn’t need Masumi or _anyone_ to tell her how she’s been treating her older sister. Though, if anything, she could at least silently thank him for reminding her of the many wonderful things her sister had done for her. There was no way she’d eve—

“Oi, watch out!”

The sudden warning the loud voice gives her is startling, though it’s much too late as before she could even turn her head in the voice’s direction, her forehead collides with a particularly hard object. The force of it alone is enough to send her crashing down to the ground and painfully landing on her behind. Her ears ring with the loud clatter of her violin case impacting the concrete sidewalk and despite the pain throbbing at her forehead and wrists she ungracefully landed on, she laments the status of her instrument more.

_“Pfft_ —”

As if reminded of the fact that there was indeed another person witness to her embarrassing mishap, she flicked her head towards the figure who was failing to conceal his laughter.

With the night beginning to make its appearance and the light of the sun was almost completely gone, she was able to somewhat recognize the uniform the male who stood a little ways away from her wore. It’s light brown color wasn’t hard to see in the dim light, neither was the large crest of her school that Juuza often commented was obnoxiously pretentious. Despite being able to figure out the male was from her school, she failed to find his features just as familiar. Long blond hair that slightly hangs in his face as well softly colored blue eyes that briefly open in between his fits of laughter to renew his amusement with her misfortune. He doesn’t look familiar at all, then again, it shouldn’t be a surprise as it was the same lack of awareness and general refusal to pay attention to her surroundings that ended up with her walking headfirst into a pole. 

With a huff, she held her fingertips against the assaulted area of her forehead, wincing slightly at the feeling of a welt beginning to form. She slowly lifted herself to sit on her knees, relieving her other wrist of the pain it tingled with. Her only reprieve was the fact that she didn’t sprain either of her wrists, which could have been a disaster especially with the cultural festival arriving the very next day. 

“If you don’t get up you’re going to make me feel bad for laughin’ at you.”

The words of the unknown stranger are accompanied with a sigh and when she glances up, she’s surprised to see him standing above her and looking down at her with an almost pitying expression. The hand that’s placed over her forehead falls to her side and now that the stranger has a clear view of her face, his eyes light up in recognition. 

“You’re that girl,” He points out and without even a ghost of a smile to convey his sincerity, he continues. “That weird one, Tachibana, right?”

With one hand grabbing the handle of her violin case and the other clutching the strap of her bag, she lifts herself to her feet and spared no glance towards the male before continuing her trek home. Her forehead continues to painfully throb, though the building irritation she felt bothered her far more the longer she stayed in the unknown male’s presence.

“Oi, I’m talkin’ to you. You could at least answer before walkin' off!”

She’s somewhat peeved to hear his voice following after her, though she assumed he was meant to go in the same direction as her even before her. . . _accident_. “Why should I answer you if you didn’t even have the decency to _help me up?”_

“Hey. . .” There’s a smile that cracks across his lips at the memory of her colliding with the light post. “I— _pfft_ — tried to warn you.”

Her cheeks puff indignantly at the words he attempted to speak through quiet laughter. “And you’re _still_ laughing at me.”

Through the side of her eye, she regarded him briefly before returning her attention to the sidewalk before her, lest she suffer from the same consequences of her earlier mishap. Unconsciously she rubs at her forehead with her free hand. “How do you even know my name? I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you around before.”

The male now walking alongside her, digs his hands into the pockets of his pants as he glances down at the black violin case she holds in her hand. “Guess you could call me your biggest fan.”


	14. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧.

╔════════════════╗

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲

╚════════════════╝

“Did ya hear?”

The spring air is clear and breezes lightly with a gentle caress to the little skin his uniform exposes. The deep blue sky that his face is turned up towards is cloudless and allows the warmth of the sun’s rays to bathe him in its light. He casually leans against the rusted railing of his school’s rooftop, one of his arms dangling off the edge and the other supporting his chin as he peers up at the endless blue above. 

Though his mind is at ease and there should have been nothing better than his current state of carelessness, there was a certain itch that scratched at the back of his mind. It was a sensation that often inspired many of his mischievous, borderline illegal, activities. He was utterly _bored_. 

“Hear wha’?”

Nothing seemed to satisfy him. Not the mindless banter of the two idiots that liked to follow him around like lost pups, nor the thrill of his recent extortion of some kid which provided quite a bit of money, absolutely _nothing_ made him feel fulfilled in some kind of way. 

He needed _some_ kind of challenge.

“‘Bout that girl, you know, the one that’s always mutterin’ to herself?”

There was a pause of silence between them as one of the idiots mulled over the words of the other. Banri held no interest at all in the topic, already deeming it pointless gossip that he could care less for. If it didn’t involve him, why bother?

“Oh! Ya mean that Tachibana chick from 3-A?”

“Yeah, her. ‘parently she’s involved with some dangerous guy or somethin’ like that.”

At his words, Banri lifts a brow as he turns his head towards the side where the most talkative idiot stands. It’s rare for anything of what they say to garner his interest, but if what was being said had something to do with the rumors he’s been hearing a lot about, then there was something of worth to the otherwise mindless gossip. 

“What guy?” 

The two blink in surprise at the sound of Banri’s voice. Like him, they never expected he’d willingly partake in the conversation. Still, the main idiot answered with no hesitation as a lopsided grin appeared on his features.

“You’ve heard the rumors haven’t you Banri? Of that guy who’s never lost a fight? That’s who that girl is hangin’ 'round with.”

There’s an intrigued hum that emits from the dark blond and slowly, he pushes himself off the railing. The two standing on either side of him watch as he stretches his arms in the air with a satisfying _pop._ His lips curled into a sly grin as his arms came to rest behind his head, his smile was of one his two companions knew all too well to hold nothing close to good intentions.

Fighting may have been just meaningless fun for him to fend off his perpetual boredom if only for a moment, but to hear that there was someone _better_ than him. . . It was an opportunity he just couldn’t pass up.

“You said she’s in class 3-A, right?”

The two idiots nodded, glancing at each other in a search for an answer to Banri’s sudden interest in their gossip. They had yet to ever see him pay any mind to their pointless chatter and had wholeheartedly expected him to completely disregard their conversation. Yet, there he stands between them, hands dug into the pockets of his pants as he holds an almost contemplative look on his features. 

Although he’d much prefer to be given the answer that would lead directly to that mysterious guy’s whereabouts, he didn’t much mind having to go through extra steps to retrieve the information himself. 

Besides, if this Tachibana girl was as close to him as the rumors say, then maybe he already found the weakness of a supposedly ‘undefeatable’ guy.

* * *

“Y-You’re looking for. . . _Tachibana-chan?”_

Holding himself back from snapping at the meek brunette in irritation, Banri opts to only offer a nod in response. The girl, presumably one of Tachibana’s classmates, fearfully peeks up at him through her fringe and when she meets his gaze, she quickly averts her own. She nervously fidgets in place, her fingers pulling at each other.

The dark blond’s reputation wasn’t the best and almost everyone knew him to be a delinquent. It’s no wonder she’s hesitant to give up the information so easily.

“I. . . I don’t know if I should tell-”

She’s interrupted by the forceful slam of Banri’s hand against the threshold of class 3-A’s door. It’s loud enough to garner the worried glances of passersby and the other students who reside in the classroom. 

“Look, it ain’t like I’m gonna hurt her so just tell me!”

If Banri didn’t get his answer soon enough, he was sure a teacher would be on their way to discipline him. The girl squeaks, shoulders hunching up to her ears and squeezing her eyes shut as she hurriedly gave him the answer he sought.

“The orchestra club! Sh-She should be practicing right now!” 

At her final piece of information, he instantly bounded away from the classroom and made his way towards the building where he knew the music rooms were located. The murmuring of stray students, who lingered long after the final bell of the day rung, persisted as he journeyed from the main hall. 

Their wary glances and dirty looks hadn’t gone unnoticed by him, rather they were expected and somewhat appreciated. No one dared to mess with him, let alone approach him needlessly when they heard of the various things he’d done both in and out of school. Being alone suited him best. Friendships and the like didn't much matter to someone like him. 

Hazy sunlight filtered in through the rows of windows he rapidly passed by as he traversed down a lengthy corridor. There was a buzzing silence in the air now that he’s completely moved away from the main hall where most of the students lingered. Now that he was in the less populated part of the school, he could be put at peace with the lack of noise. His footsteps echoed within the empty hallway and soon enough, his ears perked at the distant sound of someone talking. The voice was raised to convey their anger with the other person they were _presumably_ speaking to. 

Banri wasn’t the eavesdropping type, but when he noticed his destination getting closer and the voice getting louder, he deemed the action as being purely incidental. With slowed movements, he slid against the corner that led right towards the orchestra practice room just in time for the voice, which was distinctly male, to make a statement he could hear. 

“. . . You have someone who cares a lot about you and yet. . .” There’s a pause in his sentence and judging from the irritation evident in his tone, he was fed up with whatever the other person had said or done. “Forget it. Talking to you is a waste of time.”

There’s a shuffling of footsteps, ones that move further down the hall and Banri takes this moment to peer around the corner to finally observe just who it was arguing. Further ahead of him, were two figures that were not at all familiar. One of them, he loosely heard about from his classmates, Usumi Makoto? He couldn’t remember the male’s name exactly, but he could recall that he was unknowingly elected as the prince of Hanasaki. The other figure, the lone female who gazed after the aforementioned ‘prince’, was one he’d never seen nor heard about. It was only until his gaze drifted to the black case she clutched in her hands that he’d seen the name embroidered in white.

_Tachibana [name]._

Before she, or anyone, could see him creepily peeking out from behind the corner, he turned back around and leaned against the wall. He couldn’t help the triumphant smile that broke out across his lips. He finally found her, the girl who’d be a one-way ticket to a fight that the so-called ‘undefeatable’ guy couldn’t refuse.

With a satisfied huff, Banri pushes off the wall he leaned against before moving to trail after the girl who seemed far too lost in her thoughts to notice him. It was about time he introduced himself anyway.

* * *

“Fan?” She muttered, gaze drifting off as she once again unconsciously rubbed at the sore spot on her forehead. “ _You_ like classical music?”

The disbelief is so apparent in her voice that, even if her doubts were well placed, it still somewhat peeved him. With an indignant huff, he glances at her profile. “What? I don’t look like the type or somethin’?”

She looks back over towards him, giving him a once over before returning her attention to the sidewalk. “No, not really.”

He resists the urge to sigh in relief when she doesn’t seem to add more onto that observation. For a moment there, under her critical gaze, he thought she found him out. It would have been disastrous if she were to see right through him before he even had the chance to pry valuable information from her. In an attempt to keep the act up, he regards her with a light glare that she promptly ignores or doesn’t notice. “You didn’t have to be so blunt about it. . .”

Her expression suddenly lights up and her hand drops away from her face as she once again looks towards him with a bit more softness than before. “People tell me I can be too honest sometimes. Sorry, I didn’t mean anything bad by it.”

There's a brief look of genuine remorse that crossed her features and it somewhat causes him to falter in his steps. It’s obvious that the expression holds a far deeper meaning than he’d ever care to know and despite his internal proclaim of indifference to her problems, he couldn’t help but think of the argument he eavesdropped in on earlier. 

What was she and that other guy talking about? That was a thought that unknowingly began to occupy his mind. 

“It’s nothin’ to worry about, I don’t get offended that easily.” That’s a lie. He kind of has a short fuse, but that isn’t something she needed to know. “Aren’t you performin’ at that thing tomorrow?”

She blinks, her brows furrowing slightly. “You mean the festival? Of course. I’m guessing you’re going to be there too?”

After his claim of being a fan of hers, there’s no way he could back out of it whether he truly wanted to or not. When she glances up at him he attempts to give her the most innocent smile he could muster, though it still ended up looking more sly than he intended. Despite excelling at most things, it seemed as though concealing his true intentions were not in his continuously growing list of talents. Thankfully, it appeared as if the girl next to him was completely oblivious to his obvious giveaways. 

Well, that doesn’t matter. It makes the job of getting information out of her all the easier. 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

* * *

She thinks he’s weird, though that doesn’t stop her from politely waving to him the moment they depart at a fork in the road. While he walks off towards the nearby convenience store, she continues to ponder the odd meeting she had with him.

She doesn’t socialize much if that wasn’t obvious from the sheer lack of friends she kept, so she isn’t sure if the off feeling she receives from the dark blond is a figment of her imagination, or if it were her instincts trying to tell her something. He was nice enough, maybe only a little standoffish, but he handled her honest way of speaking better than most. 

Settsu Banri was his name and although she isn’t one to pay much attention to her surroundings, she still found it somewhat familiar. 

_Where did I hear his name from?_

Gazing down at her feet, she shrugs her shoulders. If it were important, surely she would have remembered. Still, there’s that itching sensation that gnaws at the back of her mind as if it were attempting to remind her of something. On her way home, she wonders what it could be.


	15. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧.

╔═══════════════╗

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐲𝐦𝐧

╚═══════════════╝

With the sun gone and the moon taking its place, she loosely realized just how much time had passed. Usually, she would have been eager to enter her home and greet her mother, but this time she idly stood in front of her house’s gate and stared at it in silent contemplation. 

The fingers of her only free hand idly pulled at the hem of her navy skirt, bundling the fabric before smoothing it out once more. The words spoken to her by a certain infuriating raven-blond haired male still lingered in her mind and pestered her to no end. The appearance of Banri might have offered a bit of relief from the thoughts, but without any distractions and only the evening ambience to keep her company, they festered.

_What am I supposed to say to her?_ She ponders, teeth nibbling at the skin of her bottom lip. _‘Sorry for being such a terrible sister’? No, she deserves something more sincere than that. . ._

She briefly thought of asking her mother, but the subject of her sister’s bitter departure from home must have still been a sore subject for the older woman. She’d much rather save her mother the heart ache and deal with it herself. Afterall, it was _her_ fault that her sister was feeling hurt to begin with.

It wasn’t as if this was the first time that she and her sister had a problem with one another, so why was it so difficult for her to just _apologize_? 

Another minute passes and another passing clench of bitter anxiety squeezed the middle of her chest. Her fingers tighten their hold on her violin case and soon she turns her downcast gaze elsewhere that wouldn’t remind her of her internal strife.

_Maybe I should go visit Muku for a bit. . ._

That was a welcoming suggestion that would surely take her mind off the matter even for a moment longer. With her eyes focused on the dull greyed sidewalk, she turned herself in preparation to move on past her home.

“[name]?”

She blinks, lifting her gaze and meeting the familiar figure of just who she wanted to see standing before her. His pink hair flutters gently in the wind with each advancing step he takes towards her and the pale blue eyes, which served as her point of adoration for him, gazed back at her with equal curiosity.

“Muku,” She mutters under her breath as her eyes briefly flickered towards the phone he gripped in his hand. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was about to text you,” He slightly lifts the device as he takes the final steps to close the distance between them. “And you weren’t answering my earlier ones so I got kinda worried.”

Slowly, she fishes her own phone out of her skirt pocket with her free hand and, sure enough, there are unread messages that flash across her screen. 

“Sorry,” She apologizes as she slips her phone back into its rightful place. “I. . .” 

There’s a pause in her sentence, one that begs her to reconsider even making an excuse. If the words of Usui Masumi meant anything to her, it only shined a bit of light on her regret for the countless petty reasons she used to cover up her own shortcomings as not only a friend, but a sister.

Instead, she allows a sigh to pass through her lips and her eyes fall away from his own. “Is it okay if I come over? I don’t really want to be home right now.”

“You know you’re always welcome, [name].”

Muku’s answer is immediate and even if she isn’t looking at his face, she can imagine the small smile his delicate features most likely held as he awaited her to step forward towards his side.

His answer brought a sense of warmth to fill her chest. The familiarity of him and his kindness never failed to reassure that her current problem could be easily solved. Muku was many things to her, all of them being positive things that she knew he’d vehemently deny if she were to ever tell him, but above all else, he unknowingly acted as her promise of safety. With him by her side, she felt as if there was no task too daunting nor would there ever be a situation that’d completely overwhelm her.

He’d never accept it, but she’s always found him to be more reliable than he thought.

* * *

There were only a few times Muku had ever seen [name] as dejected as she was now, and all of those times could be counted on one hand alone. It was a very well known fact among anyone who had the pleasure of speaking with the violinist that she wasn’t the type to dwell on things that proved to be of little interest to her. Of course, that was due to her embarrassingly short attention span, but another part of it was due to her lack of understanding. 

In the years Muku was friends with the older girl, he was well aware of her ignorance when it came to the feelings of others. It wasn’t as if she _purposely_ ignored them out of spite, it was more like she just genuinely never _noticed_. As a child it used to upset him how little she seemed to regard the people around her, even the members of her own family. It was almost as if she lived in her own world and everyone else were just guests that she’d acknowledge the existence ofbut nothing more.

She was insensitive, that was the more simple way to describe her and it was the more elegant way compared to the various insults the neighborhood kids used in the past. Yet, despite that, she was also one of the most genuine people he’d ever met. She was straight to the point, speaking her mind and never allowing anything or anyone to get in the way of that. It was something she had in common with his cousin, Juuza, and something he admired greatly about the two of them. 

To see her, sitting before him on his floor with her legs pulled up to her chest and chin resting between her knees, so silent and crestfallen. . . It was indeed a rare sight, he admitted to himself as his gaze settled on her half-hidden features.

Despite his efforts to have her seated on the bed alongside him, where it would undoubtedly be more comfortable, she had an odd preference for the floor and her eyes refused to lift up from its carpet. The fingers she interlocked together at the shins of her bare legs, tapped in rhythmic fashion. It was clear as day to him that something was bothering her. If it weren’t for the clear signs of her distress in her subtle mannerisms, it was the fact that she requested to visit his home. 

Her reluctance in visiting him on her own accord was mainly due to his doting mother. The older woman does nothing but praise [name] and shower her in attention the moment she enters his home, which, unknown to most, was the fastest way to fluster the violinist. It’d been forever since she willingly came over, to the point that it almost felt odd having her in his room, and it only further reinforced the idea that something was truly eating away at her. 

“Muku,” His brows raise at her muffled call and he watches as her head slightly raises from its place between her knees. Her brows are tightly knitted together as she looks up at him. “Do you. . .”

Her voice trails off and her features gain a contemplative look. He could see her take her bottom lip between her teeth as she nervously chews and her gaze falls from his back towards the floor. He doesn’t rush her, only patiently staring at her and awaiting her next words. 

With her, he’s learned to take things a bit slower. She was never one who could correctly convey her feelings when it came to her more complex emotions. It also didn’t help that she was the type to bottle things up if she senses even the slightest bit of scrutiny from the other person.

There’s an irritated sigh that escapes from her lips before she lifts her gaze up once more to meet his. “Am I a bad friend?”

His own brows knit and he blinks somewhat surprised by her question. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that. With her refusal to enter her own home and the contemplative silence she exhibited on their way towards his house, he expected something far worse to have been her problem. It was kind of a relief, if he were being honest. He was almost afraid something terrible had happened to [name]’s older sister or her mother. The disastrous situations were endless in his mind, but before he could completely get distracted by them, he shook his head. There was a question he couldn’t help but ask, given how out of place her concern was. 

“W-what brought that up?”

Her gaze returns back to the floor as her legs lower to stretch out in front of her. Her fingers interlock once more, this time pulling idly at the tips. He could only guess that it served as a way to distract her from facing the true extent of her dilemma.

“Some guy said something to me after school today. . .” The room is so silent he could hear her swallow deeply. “He said that I was. . . _hurting_ Izumi. . . by paying more attention to music.”

The idle pulling at her fingertips comes to a stop and she looks back up at him with tear rimmed [eye color] eyes. It was unknown to him whether she noticed the tears or not. “I’ve done the same thing to you before, haven’t I? Did I hurt you too?” 

The gentle tears that roll down her cheeks are ones that he has to resist the urge to wipe away. She was never one for unwanted physical contact and it was hardly the time to reenact a scene from one of his favorite shoujo manga. 

There’s a moment of silence he takes to contemplate his answer. As much as he wishes to reassure her that her priority of music over everything else, including him, never once hurt, that would be a lie. [name] valued honesty, especially from those she considered to be closest to her. Lying to her now would only disappoint her and it would do nothing to assuage her current worries. 

“I can’t lie to you and say that you haven’t. . .” He says with a frown pressing at the corners of his lips and the look of remorse that flashes across her face painfully tugs at his chest. “I know how much music is important to you and I’m sure Izumi-onee-san knows that too, but have you ever thought of how she feels? She may have been supporting you all this time. . . but she could also be feeling a little frustrated with you.”

[name] nods her head, her hands dropping to the floor as she scoots herself closer to his seated figure. Before he could react or move away from her in the assumption that she wished to sit next to him on the bed, she leaned forward and allowed her forehead to rest against his knees.

“You probably feel the same, right?” She mutters. “I’m sorry, Muku, you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I promise it won’t happen again. . .” Then, in a quieter tone that wasn’t meant to be heard by him, yet he could clearly pick it up. “You mean so much more to me than music.” 

His cheeks color in a light shade of pink, though in an effort to conceal his embarrassment and the fact that he was able to hear her, he bites into his lip to keep himself from becoming a stuttering mess. His only reprieve is that she cannot see him at all due to her positioning. His hands hover slightly above her head, unsure of whether it was okay to touch her or not. Her aversion towards affection made him think it wasn’t but he also wondered if it were one of those times where it was an unspoken request from her. There’s a heavy sigh that escapes her lips which causes him to slightly jolt at the suddenness of it.

“Comfort me, Muku.” 

He could hear a faint tremble in her voice and without further hesitation, he wordlessly complies. His fingers gently combed through silky strands of [hair color] as a soft smile curled at his lips to join along with the flush coloring his cheeks. There was hardly ever a moment she allowed herself to be vulnerable and although he never liked to ever see her cry, it reminded him that he was the only person she ever turned to when it came to things like this.

  
_‘You make me feel safe,’_ He remembered her saying to him once. _‘No one’s ever made me feel like that before.’_


	16. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧.

╔══════════════╗

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

╚══════════════╝

“Have you heard from your sister recently?”

The question hangs in the air with an unseen heaviness. Despite it being innocent and holding no malicious intent, it still served as a gross reminder of yesterday’s dilemma. Her brows tightly knitted together, fingers stiffening their hold on her favorite pale blue plastic chopsticks. Her mother sat quietly before her and gazed at her with a curious look that silently urged her to answer. 

[name] hurriedly shook her head, eyes falling back down towards her plate that held the nearly finished remnants of her breakfast. “Not since the day before yesterday. . .” She threw a cautious glance towards her mother to determine whether it was fine to continue her sentence or not. When the older woman made no verbal or expressed objections to the current subject, she continued. “She’s kinda mad at me.”

Her mother looks up from her food, the clinking of her utensils coming to a brief halt. “For what?”

“I got too wrapped up in practice and I’ve been ignoring her.”

With her words comes the return of that same pinch of regret and she shamefully averts her gaze down to the grilled piece of salmon plated before her. She doesn’t dare look back up to her mother, who was undoubtedly staring her down and opts to idly watch as she breaks a piece of fish off with her chopsticks before popping it into her mouth.

“You’ve always been that way. . .” Her mother sighs, head shaking as if she were chastising an insolent child. “And Izumi’s always tried to get you to pay attention to anything other than music but it’s what you like.”

"Just remember, [name], there’s more to life than that violin of yours.”

* * *

“So. . . what’d she say?”

The spring mornings are always peaceful. They became one of her favorite parts of the day solely because she was given time to just enjoy herself in the silence. The birds chirped softly and the sound of a gentle breeze passing through the trees lining the street were welcome additions to the overall ambiance. The air was light and fresh, its scent filling her with a lingering nostalgia of her younger days. She liked the mornings well enough, but she enjoyed the late-night evenings the best.

Muku, who walked beside her like every other school day, wasn’t at all peeved with her lack of response. The soft hum that emitted from her shortly after his question assured him that right now, she was formulating an answer.

Between walking along a very familiar path that he’d taken alongside her for a little more than three years, he glanced in her direction every so often if only to confirm that she was indeed still paying attention. Her lips were slightly parted and [eye color] eyes distantly staring ahead as if she were transfixed by something he could only fathom. 

When he looked forwards once more and caught sight of an incoming pole, he gently tugged the dazed violinist towards him. He was far too used to her lack of awareness to know that she’d knock herself out if left to her own devices. The red welt on her forehead, that she appeared with the night before, only confirmed that small worry of his.

“. . . I didn’t call her.” She murmured, smiling lightly in appreciation for his assistance with eyes lingering on him as he retracted his hand from her arm. “I know she’s coming to watch me so I’ll apologize then.” 

“Oh,” Muku sheepishly laughed, his fingers idly intertwining together at the sudden piece of information he remembered about the oldest Tachibana. “That’s right, onee-san has never missed any of your performances so far.”

[name] hummed once again. “Not even the Osaka one.” She grinned as she turned her head towards Muku, her infectious smile causing his lips to curve. “She forced me to facetime her and made one of the judges record my performance. I’m pretty sure they deducted points for that.”

Her grin faltered and she turned her head back to face forwards. There’s a huff that leaves her lips, it contains the lingering amusement she felt at the memory of her Osaka recital. At her side, her hands clenched into fists that indicate the frustration she felt at herself. The metallic case of her violin, which hung off her shoulder, gently slaps against the side of her thigh with every step.

“After the festival performance, I’ll apologize to her.” She glances back at Muku, her brows knitted with unease yet she speaks with absolute resolution. “It’s better if I do it in person anyway, right?”

He nods, his smile picking up to be a little brighter in an attempt to silently reassure her. When her expression visibly lightens up, he could feel his worries being assuaged. [name] was normally a level-headed person who faced any obstacle with a certain honesty that he wished he possessed, so he couldn’t help but feel anxious when she so clearly displayed her unease with the strain in her relationship with her sister. 

Still, it somewhat baffled him how much she cared for Izumi as he was sure if it were anyone else, she wouldn’t have batted an eye. Never had she shown so much anxiety over an apology and the fact that she even shed tears at the thought of her sister hating her, only further solidified the fact that Izumi’s opinion of her was highly valued. His heart swelled with the knowledge that the normally oblivious girl could have something other than just music on her mind. There was a part of him that wondered if _he_ mattered just as much to her, though the needless worry was comforted by the memory of the words she uttered in his room the day before.

_'You mean so much more to me than music.’_

“Muku,” 

His ears perked at the call of his name and when he glanced back up to meet her gaze, she’s standing in front of him right at the fork in the road that would serve to separate them. While she would branch off towards Hanasaki, he’d continue forwards towards St. Flora.

“You’re still coming to the festival, right?” When he nods at her question the small smile picking up at the ends of her lips is one that conveys her hidden elation. “Just make sure to text me when you arrive! I want to have a chance to show you around before my performance!”

With that, she throws him a quick parting wave before turning heel and continuing down the sidewalk. His gaze lingers on her form for the brief moments that followed after their farewell as his hand slowly lowers back down to his side. 

The cherry blossom trees that line the road she walks down, sway steadily in the morning breeze as pink petals fall from their branches and partially obscure his sight of her slowly distancing figure. There’s a lightness in his chest, one that gently constricts his heart, though its hold is gentle, almost as if he were being caressed. It’s a fleeting sensation and it passes almost as quickly as it arrived. He wishes it lingered even for a moment longer if only to give him a chance to figure out just where such a unique feeling originated from.

When his gaze averts away from the fading figure of his childhood friend to the empty road before him, he notes that the only lasting image appearing in his mind is of [name]’s parting smile.

* * *

“Tachibana-san!” 

With lips slightly parted and [eye color] eyes widened, [name]’s head perked up in response to the familiar voice. Descending the staircase right in front of her was none other than the one male she had an odd yearning to see again. Clad in a collared fitted white shirt and black slacks, he almost looked no different than what he usually wore, though the slight difference in appearance was still refreshing. Her fingers, which were tightly wound around the leather strap of her violin case hanging off her shoulder, tightened slightly in response to seeing him. Her delight with his sudden appearance was easy to mask though that didn’t mean it was completely exempt from escaping in small mannerisms like the spasm in her digits. 

The boy continued approaching her in hurried footsteps down the stairs as she stood at the foot of the first step. His face was split into an excited grin, fuchsia-colored eyes twinkling with his expressed elation at what she could only assume was the festival meant to take place in an hour. It was only until he settled right in front of her that she finally addressed him.

“Good morning, Sakuma-kun.” She politely nods her head, gaze drifting over his figure for a brief moment before she continues. “Is that the uniform for our class’s café?”

Under her stare, Sakuya shyly flushes. His fingers idly fiddle with his thin black cross tie, eyes nervously switching from her to the linoleum floor. “Y-Yeah,” Despite his fluster, he’s still quick to note that [name] doesn’t wear a uniform of any kind and is instead clad in the usual Hanasaki apparel he was far too used to seeing her in. “What about you? Aren’t you supposed to be wearing something—”

_"Nicer?”_ She interjects, smiling lightly at the embarrassed expression he wears. “One of my club members is holding onto my dress for a little while.”

He can’t help the subtle sigh of disappointment that escapes his lips at the prospect of losing a chance to see the violinist wearing something other than their school’s uniform. His gaze follows her as she steps up and past him on the stairs, causing him to follow after her whilst trying to avoid bumping into anyone. 

The halls of their school were filled with the hurried figures of their fellow peers, all of them in a rush to add the finishing touches to the school’s decoration. It was possibly the most life Sakuya had seen in the dreary halls and as much as he enjoyed the feel of the festive air, he was far more preoccupied with the later events the day would bring. Especially regarding [name]’s upcoming performance.

“Guess you’ll have to wait until later to see it.” She says the moment he steps up to walk alongside her. She continues staring forward, though the small smile on her face never wavers; it grows a little brighter. “Don’t worry, I’ll still help out with our class but I’ll have to leave again pretty soon.”

He hums in thought, furrowing his brow as he curiously blinked. “But your performance isn’t until later. . .”

She nods, a huff of amusement escaping her lips along with a quiet laugh. At this point, if he hadn’t realized her excitement, then he’d be blind. It had to have been the most expressive he’d seen her since they became something more than just classmates and he thought himself a fool if he didn’t soak in the sight for a little longer. 

“I’m actually going to be showing a friend of mine around today.” Today’s performance would mark the first time in a while Muku would be sitting in the audience and that thought alone filled her chest with bubbling jubilation. “It’ll be the first time he’s ever been to Hanasaki’s cultural festival, so I want to make it as fun as possible.”

For the last two years, Muku was too busy with the track club to attend but this year he was inexplicably free. As odd as his sudden availableness was, she couldn’t deny the happiness she felt with the news of his attendance and so she never bothered asking anything more about it.

_She has. . . friends?_ It was admittedly a terrible thought Sakuya had, but the notion of her having anyone she considered close enough to be _this_ ecstatic to see felt unreal. With her lack of social skills, a feat he was constantly witness to, he didn’t think there would be many— if _any_ at all— that would be able to see past her seemingly cold nature. Yet, despite these surprisingly callous thoughts, he was elated to hear that she did have someone other than him to call a friend. 

With a smile on his face and undeniable curiosity lingering on his mind, he wondered just what kind of person a girl like her would befriend.

* * *

Eyes the color of clear skies and wide with wonder glanced around the exterior of Hanasaki High, and hair the same shade as the petals that seemed to have endlessly rained from above, fluttered along with his every step. He had never been this close to the school he was meant to attend next year, neither had he expected it to appear as huge as it did. When he came to a stop at the steps leading up to the entrance, he never felt smaller.

From afar, when he met [name] at her school’s gates after class, the building never appeared as daunting as it had at this very moment. The passing figures of those who walked by him as they entered the school went completely unnoticed by him as he continued to stare at the building in a daze. The only time he snapped back to reality was at the sound of the entrance doors opening and closing. Briefly, he’d occasionally glance at those who entered. There were some faces he could recognize, the added familiarity of his own school’s particularly unique uniform aiding in their identification. There were even some that politely greeted him as they passed which he aptly responded with a meek wave of his own.

The moment the entrance doors opened once more, this time revealing the figure of his childhood friend, a grin split across his face. She was quick to return his smile, the rosiness of her cheeks accentuated in the radiant light of the midday sun. With some delight, he noted that her overt elation displayed from earlier this morning remained.

“You made it just in time!” She says right as she steps up to him and he’s once again taken off guard by how forward she is when she suddenly takes the initiative to link her arm with his. “Everything is just about to start and. . .” She excitedly tugs him along by his arm and with a bit of stumbling, he falls into step with her. “Luckily for _us_ , there won’t be much of a wait for anything.”

The contrast of the air that cools his skin almost immediately after entering the school is refreshing compared to the heat of the sun that bared down on him just seconds ago. Muku is immediately taken with the handcrafted decorations that line the entrance hall, though he’s not given much time to observe his surroundings before he’s pulled away by his eager companion. 

With knitted brows and a curious glance directed at the profile of the girl next to him, he couldn’t help but wonder where she was planning on taking him. “W-Where are we going?”

“Oh,” She slowly stopped in her tracks, slightly turning her head towards him. “I didn’t think to ask that. . . Is there any place you wanna go first?”

Despite the oddity with the situation, namely [name]’s unusual demeanor, he still found himself strangely captivated by her infectious excitement. To say he’d never seen her act this way was an extreme understatement. He never thought his childhood friend, a girl known only for her blunt nature and her many bizarre quirks, would ever be _this_ excited over an event that would have been meaningless to anyone else. In his chest, there’s a small bubble of laughter that escapes his lips and he uses his free hand to shyly cover his grin.

“Takoyaki!” He requests, his eyes crinkling with mirth, and quickly giving up his smile he attempted to hide. 

[name] emits a sound of awe, a hint of tease apparent on her features. “I was sorta expecting you to say cake or something. . .”

“I mean,” He says as he glances between her cheerful visage and the linoleum flooring he stands upon. “We. . . could still get some though, couldn’t we?”

“I suppose we could. . .” She feigns a wistful sigh though the smile on her face is quick to assure him she isn’t anywhere near the level of seriousness she usually possessed. She resumes pulling him along with her, their destination still unknown to him. “I think I know a place you’d like.”

At her words, Muku puffs one of his cheeks as his lips form a pout. The vague answer she provides is enough to slightly peeve him though it's obvious she only does it purely to taunt him. “Don’t tease me.”


	17. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧.

╔══════════════╗

𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞

╚══════════════╝

There was something distinctly serene about the swarming chaos that became of her usually quiet classroom. Her classmates, many of whom she didn’t know by name, roamed about the space with a certain objective in mind. 

Her surroundings appeared completely different from the standard classroom she was far too used to seeing. Light poured in from the large windows lining the left side of the room and highlighting the scattered clusters of decorated desks. In groups of four, desks were pushed together to create makeshift tables, and lying on top of them in a curtain of white was a pristinely pressed tablecloth. At the center of each table sat a stack of four menus, each of them handwritten in a neat script and along their sides were colorfully cute doodles. Fairy lights were strung sparsely around the room and despite them not providing much of a look during the day, she’d imagine that they’d appear prettier at night. The surrounding décor was an obvious far cry from the typical café, though there was still a kind of endearment found in her class’s attempt to recreate something so familiar to the average person. 

[name] watched the passing figures of her classmates with idle curiosity, noting the focused expressions they wore that only bloomed into a pleasant smile the moment a customer came into view. She found it odd how easily their faces could change on a whim and for a moment she wondered if she would have been able to do the same. Some of her classmates were able to easily smile and look completely natural, Sakuya being among those few. 

While most of the others came off as disingenuous, his friendliness was only further emphasized when his grin emitted a seemingly genuine welcoming aura the others could only hope to replicate. His natural cheer and ability to befriend almost anyone only further added to the comfort their class attempted to convey with their chosen café theme. It was almost as if the class’s chosen festival event was _made_ for him. The ghost of a smile picks up at the ends of her lips as her gaze trails after the retreating sight of her favorite redhead. 

Her expression of subtle affection which had gone unnoticed by her is quickly picked up by her childhood friend who sits just across the table. He sneaks another glance at her over the small menu he clutches in his hands before averting his gaze towards the direction she stared at with profound interest. The moment his eyes meet the sight of an unfamiliar teen male happily taking the order from a table across the room, his gaze quickly returns down to his menu and a sudden feeling of regret washes over him. He couldn’t help the subdued thoughts of uncertainty from invading his mind and all of it was due to his own overly anxious nature. Among the many far-off scenarios he created in the recesses of his mind, there was one that bothered him the most. It was one of the more realistic conclusions and it’s normalcy only served to assure him of its certainty.

Her lingering gaze that strayed for far too long on the boy across the room appeared too affectionate to be considered friendly. Never could he imagine that his music-obsessed friend could harbor feelings for anything other than the violin. Her solitary existence assured that no one other than a select few, who he was unquestionably familiar with, would know her as closely as _he_ did. The notion of [name] acquainting herself with someone who he _didn’t_ know only further alarmed him of her developing care for another person and egged on the hidden fear of her abandoning him.

“What’re you getting?” Her sudden question pulled him out of his momentary stupor. “I’m thinking milk tea and strawberry shortcake, what about you?”

He gaped at her with slight aghast and before she could question his odd behavior, he quickly blurts an answer. “Ch-Chocolate cake!”

She glances up from the small menu in her hands with a brow raised and a ghost of an amused smile picking up at the ends of her lips. _“Again?”_

His gaze averts from her own and lowers back down to the table that sat between them. Underneath, he nervously fiddled with his fingers. “It’s my favorite. . .”

Even if she no longer had a clear view of his visage, she could still faintly see the pale pink color of embarrassment that dusted his cheeks. It made her heart flutter with a tinge of happiness and a laugh to bubble past her pale lips.

Much to his chagrin, her delight in his timidity had yet to wane even when one of the class’s designated waitresses had finally circled to their table. Her grin persisted throughout her order and during his own, he could see her silently giggling to herself at the repeat of the same order he had the last time they went to a café together. 

She found his tendency to consistently choose his favored sweet over everything else presented to him somewhat endearing as well as nostalgic. The moment their waitress departed with their order and a promise to return, [name]’s grin lost it's coy and settled into something more demure. The shift in mood wasn’t lost on her childhood friend and once his gaze returned to her own, he straightened himself up to convey his attention.

“I’m really glad you came,” Her voice no longer carried a playful tone he rarely heard from her. Instead, it sounded more mellow and calm; a tone he was far more used to. “I’ve never been a fan of school events but with you here, it’s a lot more fun.”

Her words brought upon a wave of excitement to course throughout his being and the warmth of elation hadn't failed to be showcased on his boyish features. It was only until the realization of his absence for [name]'s past school events that his expression dimmed. "I. . . wish I came last year.”

She said nothing at first, only staring back at him with a small smile on her lips and her eyes reflecting nothing other than seemingly endless patience. She gently shook her head and Muku idly watched the delicate sway of her loose tresses.

“You were busy, I can’t blame you for that.” Her eyes glance away from his for a brief moment at the approach of their waitress who returned with their orders. It was only until she once again departed after they both expressed a murmur of gratitude that [name] resumed her sentence. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters to me.”

Her unusually sweetened words were finished off with a soft smile and before he could even muster a response other than the deep reddening of his cheeks, she turned her attention down to the slice of shortcake set before her. 

Apart from his surprised gape, there wasn’t much he could say in acknowledgment of her abrupt willfulness in speaking her mind. It wasn’t usually an easy task for her and much like her display of unbridled excitement, this was another first. He never once realized how much she seemingly valued his presence. Whether it was his lack of self-confidence or [name]’s inept ability to convey herself to even those closest to her, there was an unimagined bit of affection between them. Though it had never once been spoken into existence by either of them, there was hope; mostly on Muku’s part, that it would one day become a reality.

The fuzzy feelings and fluffy thoughts only persisted with the possibility of her reciprocation. Though at the sound of muffled laughter, one that was escaping through the cracks of their fingers, had the somber thoughts of inadequacy returned. The redhead, who was once attending someone across the classroom, stood just a little more closer to their table while he idly chattered with a raven-blond haired male who looked as if he wished to be anywhere else. The laughter had yet to capture [name]’s attention as she was far too enraptured with her cake to care for anything else, but it unknowingly held Muku’s.

He pondered what the relationship between the stranger and his childhood friend truly was and if it would become something he’d need to sincerely worry about in the future.

* * *

His nerves had to have been at their absolute highest. It was the only explanation he could come up with to reason the empty feeling in the pit of his gut and the painstaking tugs he felt in his chest. 

The show he achingly anticipated was just in an hour, a limit he made sure to countdown to its very last second, and it would only be in thirty minutes that his odd friend and talented violinist, Tachibana [name], would finally show up.

Yuuji wasn’t a meticulous person. If anything, he considered himself to be messy and disorganized, but something about performing in front of large crowds made him completely different. 

He was a nervous wreck. 

He didn’t need it to be pointed out verbally as the silent and somewhat concerned stares of his peers had already made that fact apparent. No one approached him to ask of his well being and it was only a hopeful thought of his that it was because they were just as nervous as he was. His hair was as disheveled as the collar and tie of his dress shirt and the garment bag he clutched in his hands was slightly wrinkled from how tight he bundled its protective fabric together. He could only hope that the dress inside wasn’t damaged as it belonged to no one other than the quiet violinist herself.

The school’s auditorium, which he and the rest of the orchestra club practiced in numerous times, felt bigger than it was in reality. The high ceiling he'd occasionally peer up at made him nauseous with how far away it appeared from his place near the ground and it didn't help that the slight echoing of chatter only added to the utter vastness the hall possessed. He sat in the cushiony red chair, his fingers rhythmically tapping against the armrest after they finally stopped their assault on [name]’s garment bag. He and the rest of those that belonged to the violin section sat in the front row and though they weren’t meant to be in any specific order, their instructor suggested that each group sit with one another. Next to him was an empty seat belonging to the only missing member of the club who was apparently on her way.

“Tsukishiro-san,” He jolts in response to the call of his name, an overreaction only brought on by his bundled nerves. His instructor, whether out of kindness to him or in ignorance, disregarded his jittery behavior. “Have you heard from Tachibana yet?”

There was a brief pause before Yuuji hurriedly nodded his head whilst fidgeting with the now loosened tie around his neck. “She said she’s on her way!”

Not only did his reply noticeably give relief to his instructor, but to his surrounding clubmates that could hear him. Their features loosened significantly and now their idle chatter contained the whispered reassurance of [name]’s arrival.

With it only being his first year in the orchestra club, it never occurred to him how much his friend was relied upon by their peers. From the past festival concerts he attended, all of them seemed so confident on stage, especially [name]. For them to be so audibly relieved with the missing violinist’s return somewhat skewed his past sanguine vision of them.

Another pinch of anxiety was felt in his chest and soon his anxiousness caused him to quickly glance down at the screen of his phone in hopes of another unopened text from [name]. When none could be found, his restlessness amplified along with the continuous passage of time. 

_She’s really cutting it close. . ._

His impatience was brought on with the quickly closing time allotted for the concert. Only twenty minutes remained until they were supposed to start and Yuuji was hoping that his first and possibly _only_ concert wouldn’t be performed without the one person he desperately wished to impress. Her, above anyone else, was the one to willingly teach him day after day without holding back. Though he once thought her blunt honesty was too much for him, he'd come to appreciate every tip and critique she'd given him. He wanted to show her how much he improved and how far along he'd come with her help. 

“Tachibana!” Yuuji once again jumped slightly in his seat, though this time he was quick to snap himself out of his momentary daze to glance behind him where his instructor was heading towards. Despite the older man’s obvious relief, there was still a sigh that escaped his lips out of agitation. “I would’ve gone looking for you myself if you were any later.” 

Their instructor’s statement was one that Yuuji couldn’t help but silently agree with. He was becoming so antsy that the thought undeniably crossed his mind a couple of times as well. In response to the older man’s warranted concerns, [name] apologetically bowed. It was only at that moment that Yuuji and the rest of the club had caught sight of a pink-haired male lingering slightly behind her. To Yuuji, he looked meek and obviously out of place. That alone caused the raven-haired teen to feel a sense of affinity. 

“Sorry, sensei.” She lifts her head to address him directly and although Yuuji would have thought she’d appear generally unashamed for being late, the furrow in her brow and softness of her eyes suggested otherwise. “I lost track of time, but that doesn’t excuse me from being late.”

Their instructor merely shook his head before crossing his arms over his chest. “As long as you’re aware of the trouble you caused. . .” Just as he finished his sentence, he glanced over [name]’s shoulder and peered at the younger male behind her. “Who did you bring along?”

[name]’s brows rose almost as if she just realized her tag-along guest as well. She quickly steps to the side of the aisle, fully revealing the figure of the male behind her. “Oh, um, this is—”

“Sakisaka Muku!” He suddenly interjects whilst stepping forwards. “I-I’m a third-year at Saint Flora middle school.”

“He’s here to watch me perform so I wanted to make sure he got the best seats available before anyone else.”

Their instructor regards [name] for a moment in silence, possibly in thought over her decision to bring along a guest. There are only a few seconds before he seemingly relents and with a defeated shake of his head, he finally responds. 

“Well, it’s too late for me to say anything _now_.” Another sigh escapes his lips and he soon motions for her to continue down the aisle where the rest of the club sat. “Just hurry and get ready, the concert’s going to start soon.” 

Yuuji and the rest of the club stand up from their seats at their instructor’s words and though they begin their way towards the backstage, Yuuji does not. Instead, he turns around towards the approaching figure of [name] and her friend. The moment the two of them stand before him, he greets both of them with a friendly but shy smile on his face and it’s immediately returned by [name].

“Thank you for holding onto it for me, Yuuji.” She reaches forward and takes the garment bag out from his grasp. “I hope you’re not mad at me for making you wait.”

He quickly shook his head, clasping his now freed hands at his waist in a fit of newly returned nervousness. [name] had seemingly noticed his uneasiness though she said nothing of it and merely addressed her friend whose name Yuuji overheard. 

“Make sure you sit in the front row, okay? Don’t worry about reserved seats or anything like that.” Her voice was comparatively softer than usual and it only went to show the level of affection she held for the other male. “I’ll be going now. Wish me luck.”

Muku responded with a huff of laughter followed by an admittedly cute smile. “Like you need it.”

After his remark, the three departed from each other with [name] and Yuuji heading towards the backstage and Muku weaving his way towards the front row seats. The curiosity of [name]’s relationship with the pink-haired male baffled him and the desire to know more about it was increasingly becoming unbearable. 

He couldn’t quite blame it on jealousy as he was well aware that it wasn’t anything other than just the feeling of wanting to know more about the violinist he’d come to call his friend. Anything about her outside of music was a mystery to him and the moment a person who was an outlier of that realm who appeared close to her became the center of Yuuji’s attention. Once both him and [name] entered the hallway leading towards the backstage, Yuuji decided to finally ask just who Muku was to her.

“Was that your, um, _friend?”_

[name] glanced at him from her place at his side and despite his question being one that he’d normally assumed to be way too invasive, she didn’t appear at all too bothered by it. 

“He’s my childhood friend.” She simply answers and when he peers over at her, he once again finds that soft smile she usually wore when she played music. “I've known him since we were kids.” 

Though his question wasn’t too in-depth, it still served to satisfy a partial amount of his wonder. If he were braver, he would have persisted to know more but he instead only nodded at her words and allowed the rest of the walk towards the backstage to be in silence. 

[name]’s overall demeanor seemed to have been more open than usual. He would have expected her to be uptight since she looked like the type to take concerts and the like a lot more seriously than most. Once again, Yuuji was taken by surprise by her. Not only with her being a lot more sociable than what most would assume but with her willfulness to be more open with her emotions than she typically was. If he had to sum the experience up in words, he’d call it refreshing. It was like seeing a new side of her he’d never once witnessed before. 

He wondered if there were more things to her he was unaware of and if he’d ever get the chance to truly know all of her as he wished. She was strange, an enigma to all but those she allowed in. He wanted nothing more than to be a part of that.


	18. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧.

╔════════════════╗

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐝𝐞

╚════════════════╝

The heat of the stage lights along with the echo of music which resounds around her like a comforting haze. This was the beauty of the stage, the one place she could proudly stand upon and display to the world the very essence of her talent without an ounce of shame.

Among the sea of people she's stood before time and time again, there wasn’t one who _truly_ knew her and that was a thought she took great comfort in. The music she played and the sound she'd produce was all that mattered to them. Nothing else. 

It was the emptiness of it all that she envied.

The harmony of sound and each note that displayed themselves in black ink printed on the manuscript, catered to her desire to conceive a song. There’s a tingle felt throughout the tips of her fingers, a sensation reminiscent of the itch to place them against the strings of an all too familiar instrument. 

Her fixation was beginning to unravel, making its appearance in the smallest of twitches and shifts of her expression. At her side, her index finger and thumb rubbed the sheer cream-colored fabric of her dress between them. The scratchy texture seemingly kept her grounded in this reality, a reminder that the sight before her was not a part of a dream.

Dark blue curtains, made from heavy fabric, hide both herself and the rest of her club from the eyes of their prospective audience. Even from behind the shield the curtains provide, she could hear their murmuring. There was a tinge of curiosity that was only sated by the thought that there were only a few more minutes before she’d finally face them in all of their glory. Her place at the forefront of the stage, the center of all attention, had her nerves convulsing with excitement. Behind her, seats were placed and gathered into their rightful groups as the members of her club began filling them up as ordered by their instructor. The violin and bow she loved dearly are clutched into one hand while the other continues to fiddle with her clothing. 

The brush of her curled locks settling against her exposed shoulders jolted her out of her momentary daze. She glanced over towards her side where Yuuji stood next to her and on his face was a look of concern. His brows were drawn into a tight-knit and lids lowered as he stared down at the tiled floor with his hands buried into the pockets of his black slacks. He looked utterly nervous, a fact further emphasized by his occasional anxious pull to his tie as well as the disheveled state of his hair. There was a part of her that briefly wondered if she should even bother with him, though the side of her that held the concert dear, prompted her into action.

"Yuuji," There wasn't even a second to pass before the male slightly turned his head in her direction in response. "Turn this way."

She places her hand on his shoulder before gently swiveling him around. Although he wears a look of surprise on his face, he doesn't fight her desired adjustment. He patiently waits, staring at her with an edge of anticipation.

He feels the brush of her fingertips against the skin of his neck as she corrects the crumpled fabric of his collar. Her touch is light, leaving a tingly feeling in its wake that flares his cheeks in response. He focuses his gaze on the flutter of her lashes and the subtle movements of her hands. Her fingers are nimble, almost fleeting, as they move from fixing his tie and collar to running through his hair to adjust it. He does everything in his power to keep himself from making eye contact with her. His one-sided abashment is further highlighted by his racing pulse, though the girl before him shows no sign of outward discomfort. 

He finds himself unknowingly holding his breath at her proximity and with each rake of her fingers through his tresses, he resists the urge to release a blissful sigh. The nerves that once prickled under his skin and tug mercilessly at his chest began to taper off until he was left with nothing other than the building embarrassment of being fussed over.

The moment her fingers cease their movement and retract away from his head, there’s a momentary thought of his that wished she’d continue. The gesture oddly brought him comfort and despite it being entirely pitiful of him, he hoped to have relished in it for a few moments longer.

“There,” She hums to herself in satisfaction. "Now you look decent.”

Her remark is finished off with a tender smile that seemingly warms his being. The comfort he felt in her touch could be found in her delighted expression and whether she knew it or not, it served as a reassurance to him. It was a wonder how she could appear so calm especially when she was the one chosen to play a lengthy solo in front of a crowd larger than anything he was used to.

“Aren’t you scared?” He finds himself asking aloud and the question is met with the curious tilt of her head.

“Not really,” There’s a moment she takes as she looks from him to the midnight blue curtain ahead of them. “I’m used to this. Are _you_ scared?”

He gapes at her, lips parted in preparation to speak more on the matter, though his words seem to fail him. Without him confirming his fear, she seemingly took his silence as admission. There isn’t much of a reaction out of her other than a stare that regards him without irritation nor disappointment. Instead, the curve of her lips returns accompanied by a soft exhale through her nose.

“There’s _nothing_ to be nervous about. We’ve practiced for weeks now and you’ve improved.” The steadiness in her tone only further claimed validity to her affirmation and soon enough, his expression relaxed. “Trust me, you’ve got this.”

Her words alleviated his internal strife and with a repeat of her assurance within his head, he forced his nerves to simmer away. Her utter faith in him wasn’t at all contrived to placate him and her sincerity was enough to reaffirm his admiration for her. Yet before he could voice his gratitude, he’s interrupted by the call of their instructor who directs him back to his seat where his violin awaits. Still, he wishes to impart something with her before the concert begins and leaves him with no chance to say anything else.

“G-Good luck. . . [name]-chan.”

He leaves for his group before she has a chance to respond and she’s left to gape after him. She hadn’t expected him to call her by her first name though it still managed to surge another bout of affection for him throughout her being. Silently, she smiles to herself. 

There was a loud buzz that resounded throughout the stage, alarming the audience and her fellow orchestra club members at the start of their show as well as silencing any chatter. The curtains began to slowly retract, revealing herself and those on stage to the crowd. [name] continued to stand in place, glancing over her shoulder every so often to watch as her clubmates took their seats and readied their instruments. The stage lights brightened along with each passing second until they shined brilliantly down onto their idle figures. 

The conductor, which incidentally was her instructor, took his place at the front of the stage with his back facing the audience. There's only a few moments between the settling of their conductor and the start of the song. Within that short time, the eagerness to begin caused her to shift her violin to the correct positioning in preparation for the start of her solo. 

The woodwinds were the first to start, breaking the prevailed silence. Her ears perked at the sound of the steady tone of the flutes, evoked by the rise of the conductor’s baton. Soon, the strings joined in with the deep intonation of cellos followed by the sharp pitch of violins. Splashes of cool tones filled in the space behind her lids and with some satisfaction, she was able to correctly identify each hue. Within her head, she counted the seconds from which her part would start. The familiarity of the colors created from each sound established a sense of comfort within her. Every note that played, she knew by heart. 

The precise moment her time arose to start, she placed her violin against her shoulder and laid the bow across its strings. The silence that befell the room just before the prolonged tone emitted from her instrument paved the inception of her solo.

Her right hand rose and fell along with the peaks of her song, prompting her violin to sing its highest note. The color of the tone, which could be seen between each lengthened blink of her eyes, was an azure that almost bordered violet. The fingers she placed across the neck of her instrument danced in a succession of every note, strumming and flitting across the tense strings to extend her desired pitch. 

Her gaze would occasionally blink up towards the conductor, watching the slow sway of his baton that reminded her to lower her note, before briefly glancing towards the audience in search of the one person she wished to see the most. Despite her desire to find the face of her older sister amongst the crowd, both the increased tempo of her song and the intense stage lights above compelled her to refocus. 

Her left hand steadied with another delayed tone as her right continued sawing her bow through the air in rhythm with the melody in her head. As the intensity of her cadence grew, she was joined by the combined instruments of her clubmates whose sound offered solidity to the screech of her violin. 

The mirage of color that eclipsed the darkness of her lowered lids offered insight into the total synchronicity of the orchestra as well as the capable leadership their conductor possessed. Each color claimed a sense of belonging, one that proclaimed of perfect melody [name] wasn’t all too used to hearing. This wasn’t the first time she’s played together with an orchestra, but for some reason, everything just felt so _right_ compared to her previous concerts.

The song persisted, the color behind her lids sequentially invading one another with differing hues of alternating intensities, signifying which tone prevailed over the other; [name]'s being one of the loudest and most vivid. The skirt of her dress shifted and brushed against her legs with each sway of her body prompted by her indulgence with the music. The climax of her solo was approaching with each color she produced and her sound became the makings of a masterpiece. She could seemingly feel every sharp and low tone resonate throughout her being, creating a euphoric timbre that urged her need for perfection. 

_This_ was her heaven. The beauty of the stage, which she thought eluded her, was the very thing that she stood in the midst of at this very moment.

Music vastly surrounded her, enrapturing her senses and forming the feeling of reverie. The world seemingly fell away and left her to be the lone occupant of a realm where only color and sound existed. It was only for that brief second that her worldly concerns did not matter and that for once, she truly felt at ease.

It ended all too quickly. Where there was once a myriad of color and an assortment of sound, there was nothing left. The color faded and the music ceased when her bow drew out its last note to end the song. It left a feeling of emptiness, one that normally accompanied the finish of a concert or recital and it was a sensation she hated deeply.

Her eyes rose from the floor of the stage to the audience before her as she lowered both her violin and bow to cradle in her arms. It was then, only a few seconds later, that the reverberation of applause sounded throughout the auditorium and prompted her to bow her head in response. 

The sound of chairs behind her skidding against the floor as members of the orchestra began to rise from their seats, as well as the loud buzzer that once again sounded to warn of the closing curtains, snapped her back into reality once more. [name] glanced behind her before turning around to face her clubmates in search of a familiar figure. The second her eyes made contact with the meek form of her friend, she hurriedly weaved her way around chairs and music stands towards him. She paid no mind to the murmured compliments that her peers offered her, ignoring them in favor of keeping her gaze locked onto Yuuji’s form. 

Alarmed by her approach from the click of her heels, he glanced up from the music sheets he attempted to gather to the delighted visage of his closest friend. Before he could greet her or even return her smile, she suddenly drew him into an embrace with her free hand.

“Ta-Tachibana-san?!” He sputters, wincing only slightly at the press of her violin against his stomach. “Is some—”

“[name].” She utters as she pulls herself away and gives him his personal space. “Please call me [name].”

The hug is over just as quickly as it was initiated and the suddenness of it all only makes him wonder if it _actually_ happened or if it were merely a figment of his imagination. Though the soft curve of her lips and the trace of embarrassment found in her red dusted cheeks served to further affirm that belief. Yuuji simply nodded in response to her words, far too abashed to open his mouth in fear of making the situation awkward. 

“I want you to meet someone important to me,” The mellow tone of voice she uses calls forth his attention and he regards her with wonder then a look of apprehension. She laughs, the smile reaching her eyes as she steps past him towards the backstage where the rest of their club begins packing up their instruments. “Don’t worry, it’s just my older sister.” 

He’s left to stumble after her and once he falls into step alongside her, his mind wanders back to the embrace they shared. He figured her sudden display of affection was due to the excitement she felt at the success of the concert. Her solo was the highlight of the show and was what undoubtedly drew the audience to applaud so loudly. The adrenaline of it all must have caused her to act out abruptly and it was only convenient that he was closest to her. Although he was well aware of how little it could have meant to _her_ , he wondered if there was a chance that it meant _something_ more. The thought alone caused his heart to race and mind to frazzle with embarrassment. 

With a few tugs to his collar to loosen his tie, he couldn’t help but question just what exactly it was about [name] that made him so _unbelievably_ nervous? Just being near her was enough to make his stomach flutter with figurative butterflies and her touch seemingly ignited the surface of his skin. Usually, anything or anyone who made him feel _this_ uneasy would have been avoided and he knew well enough that this was beyond just admiration. 

The passing heat that flushed his cheeks at the memory of her arm around him and her breath fanning against his ear made it fairly obvious that the answer to his internal strife would be far too complex. Besides, he wasn't sure if he _wanted_ to know the answer.


	19. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧.

╔═════════════╗

𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

╚═════════════╝

If there was ever a moment that she felt more at peace with her existence, it would be the several singular seconds following an ultimately successful performance. The applause was all she truly sought out from the audience, but most of the time she’d even settle for a small smile.

While her mind was focused on the prospect of success in the one talent she dedicated a little more than half her life to, there was still the presence of failure which constantly loomed over her head like the blade of a metaphorical guillotine. Failure to _her_ would mean death, and she seldom allowed herself the freedom of acknowledging its reality. 

She wasn’t so arrogant as to believe herself to play any song perfectly the first time, it was only human of her to make mistakes, but she’d push herself to overcome that obstacle with hours and hours of practice. It might have been in her persona to appear apathetic to the onlookers of her performances, but that was quite far from the truth.

More than anything, she craved validation. While it may have seemed redundant to reinforce her confidence in her own abilities, in reality, to hear the words of praise directed towards her music ability, no matter how insignificant, helped her regain the sense of belonging she’d often lose. The approval and the pleasing looks of satisfaction in her work were one of the few things that kept her grounded and it was especially appreciated after a nerve-wracking performance like the one she just participated in.

Anxiety crept into her being before each and every performance she was due to appear in and it nibbled at her state of mind, pushing her to the ends of her wits to keep herself together. Her level-headedness which she prided herself in being able to appear even during the most stressful times in her life, was nothing but an overexaggerated façade. 

Though all of it, including the inadequacy that sometimes overcame her, would continue to be a secret kept to herself.

Among the scattered murmurs of passersby and the idle figures of the other orchestra members in wait, stood both Yuuji and [name] who were far too invested in packing up their precious instruments to care for the exit of their peers. It was only until she clicked her sleek violin case closed before securing its latches that her thoughts were interrupted by the mellow sound of Yuuji’s voice.

“[name]. . . what’s your sister like?”

Yuuji’s uncertainty was clearly conveyed through his unsteady tone and his nervous disposition. Although his meek expression was one she was more than used to, it was obvious that his anxiousness originated from the fact that he was about to meet someone new. His shyness was one of his more endearing traits and the closer she grew in terms of friendliness towards him, the more he reminded her of Muku. It was somewhat bittersweet.

“She’s nicer than _me_. . . If that tells you anything.” She simply stated as she crossed the strap of her violin case over her shoulder. 

[name]’s reassurance had done nothing to assuage his worry, though instead of pressing her further for more information, he instead focused more on the sudden change of her demeanor. Where she was once over excited and completely out of character, she now resembled the same passive [name] Yuuji was accustomed to. It was somewhat disappointing to see her lose that enthusiasm that allowed her to display a completely different side to her, and its disappearance only further begged the question of where it came from. It wasn’t as if he thought her to be incapable of expressing anything other than perpetual boredom, it was the fact that her excited smile seemed to be a rarity and if he knew it was bound to disappear so quickly, he might have made more of an effort to imprint its image into his head.

If only he knew how to make her smile like that again. 

At the sound of a sigh emitting from the girl before him, Yuuji refocused his attention on her. “You’ll be fine.” She once again assured as she gently picked up his wrist before pulling him along to match her stride. “Like I said, you’re someone I really want her to meet.”

He thought it was unfair how easily she was able to say such words that unintentionally made his heart flutter with something akin to joy and he wondered if she would ever feel even an ounce of his embarrassment. Yet the moment his rose-pink colored eyes lifted from the floor’s tile, passing the sight of their nearly conjoined hands, and finally traveling up the length of her back to her head, he was delightfully surprised with his discovery. 

He may have not been given the pleasure of seeing her face, but the view of the reddened tips of her ears and the flush that colored the back of her neck, courtesy of the loose dutch braid she styled her hair in, was still something he couldn’t have ever imagined himself being witnessed to. Despite her being so brave as to say it once to him before, it appears as if she could barely muster the courage to say it again. It almost made him _want_ to tease her, though he instead opted to just allow himself to be pulled along by her with a pleased smile on his face. 

* * *

While it was fairly obvious to Izumi that her younger sister was passionate about her music, she still found herself mildly surprised by the sheer devotion she placed in each of her performances. Her sister was fairly, for a lack of a better word, lax in regards to her audience and she often believed the younger girl wouldn’t put too much energy into a performance that couldn’t really benefit her in any way. Yet, the intensity she displayed in her solo rivaled the Osaka recital Izumi watched in the past. 

The sensation that bubbled in her chest could be nothing short of amazement. It was a feeling of pride that conceived it and the knowledge that it was _her_ sister who played a melody so enrapturing that it seemingly consumed all who listened, had her smugly smiling in her seat.

The moment [name]’s solo ended along with the song, it felt as if a quixotic haze lifted from the audience and delayed their applause only by seconds. It was surreal how much [name]’s playing could affect people, whether they or _she_ knew it or not.

Once the stage’s curtains closed and the auditorium’s lights brightened from their dimmed state, Izumi’s ears perked at the sound of both chatter and the movement of those who were leaving. There was still quite sometime before the next show and there were a few, including herself, who opted to stay seated instead of moving immediately. It was only until her gaze drifted over towards the side of the stage, where she noticed a group of teens emerging from, that she caught sight of her beloved little sister and someone else who followed along behind her. Though, despite being dropped the minute they inched closer towards her, the added detail of their attached hands hadn’t escaped Izumi’s keen sight. The seedlings of interest had already implanted themselves in her mind when it came to the raven-haired teen, especially since her sister wasn’t one who preferred to keep people around. 

“Onee-chan!” In response to [name]’s call, Izumi’s lips bloomed into a smile and she greeted the approaching teens with a wave of her hand after she rose from her seat.

“I didn’t expect you to show up so soon.” Izumi started the moment [name] and her friend placed themselves in front of her. “I thought you’d want to meet up with Muku before seeing _me. . .”_

There’s a brief flash of remorse that displays across [name]’s visage though it quickly disappears as soon as it's sighted. As much as Izumi is attentive to her sister’s odd demeanor, there were still some things that eluded her. [name] was someone Izumi believed to be almost fearless. Constantly, the younger girl would step forwards towards any trouble or challenge she may face with a lack of care that often served as a concern for both Izumi and their mother. Still, [name] possessed a confidence that Izumi couldn’t help but admire. 

The sight of [name] fidgeting in nervousness, highlighted by the crease of her brow only further destroyed the built-up image of the sister she assumed was strong. 

“I wanted to see you first because. . .” [name] pauses for a moment before glancing over towards the male next to her and with a bit more certainty in her tone than earlier, she continues. “I want to introduce you to my friend, Tsukishiro Yuuji.”

After the previously unknown male is introduced, Izumi is quick to glance over his appearance; taking in his neat, yet disheveled dark-colored locks and the bright pink eyes that stare at her with equal curiosity. His features are soft, almost mirroring the docile nature of [name]’s childhood friend and it only further lays claim to the type of people [name] unknowingly attracted. 

With her smile growing into a bright grin, Izumi slightly tilts her head with an introduction of her own. “I’m Tachibana Izumi, but I don’t mind if you call me Izumi.”

At the mention of a lack of honorifics added with the fact of using her first name, Yuuji was quick to shake his head and with some amusement, both of the Tachibana siblings watched as his cheeks flared red. “N-No way! I couldn’t-”

“Oh,” Izumi hummed with interest. “He’s pretty easy to fluster. . . I bet you have a lot of fun teasing him, don’t you [name]?”

Instead of a smile or even a semblance of agreement with Izumi’s observation, [name] wore a serious expression. “Stop. If you keep that up he’ll go back to calling me by my last name again.”

“You’re both on a first-name basis _already?”_ Despite it being a somewhat offhand remark made only out of surprise that [name] was close to someone other than her childhood friends, her words were met with a surprising reaction. 

As expected [name]’s shy friend, Yuuji, was the first to catch onto Izumi’s unintentional implication of their close relationship and the dust of red that stained his cheeks from his previous fluster only further spread across his countenance. [name] on the other hand, followed behind by several seconds and her embarrassed expression along with a blush of her own gave insight into the potential teasing material Izumi could come up with following the appearance of [name]’s new friend.

“An-Anyway, I introduced him to you for a reason.” [name]’s expression lost its previous chagrin and instead was replaced with an earnestness that immediately claimed Izumi’s attention. “For the past few weeks, I’ve been helping him get better at the violin.”

There’s another pause in her sentence, begging a silence that suggested [name] wasn’t quite done with what she was saying. Still, Izumi’s thoughts persisted and she could only think in disbelief of her sister’s odd act of what she could only assume was random kindness. [name] wasn’t someone who enjoyed pouring her time into anything other than practice, a fact that became painfully obvious after Izumi’s invitations to spend time together faced numerous rejections, so it came as a surprise to hear [name] willingly spend her precious time to make an effort in helping someone else. The only logical explanation Izumi could come up with in her sister’s stead either pertained to her seeing a musical potential in Yuuji or maybe [name] liked him more than she realized.

“-And, I also owe you an apology.” That expression of remorse once again appeared on [name]’s features and it was only then that Izumi finally realized why it appeared in the first place. “I’ve been so preoccupied lately that I didn’t even notice when I was hurting you and for that, I’m sorry.”

It was a shock not only to Izumi but to Yuuji as well, to see [name] submissively bowing her head. The matter [name] was referring to happened weeks ago and became a figment of the past that Izumi had already forgotten. [name]’s negligence was something Izumi was all too used to and was something she quickly forgave since it wasn’t her younger sister consciously doing it to spite her. Despite that, Izumi couldn’t deny the comfort that her sister’s apology brought on. 

“[name],” At the sound of her name, [name] lifts her head, and soon enough, her eyes widen slightly at the sudden tender head pats given to her by Izumi. “I know you didn’t mean it, but I still appreciate your apology. To think I had such a _thoughtful_ little sister.”

Though there was still a hint of tease in the tone of her voice, the gentle smile Izumi bore displayed the gratitude she truly felt. It was an expression so attentive that the squeeze felt in [name]’s chest took her slightly off guard. Yet despite that brief prickle of pain, there was an overwhelming feeling of warmth that flooded her being and the smiling visage of her sister had alleviated the figurative weight on her chest.

“You’ve never apologized before, so it kinda took me off guard when you suddenly did that.” Izumi awkwardly laughed in an effort to lighten the mood, though it sounded obviously forced.

“Honestly, I never even noticed when I hurt you like that and it wasn’t until recently that it was brought to my attention. I know it took me a while but I just. . . didn’t know how to approach you.”

_‘Someone must have said something to her. . .’_ It was a sneaking thought that lingered in the back of Izumi’s mind and though she would have immediately assumed that person to be Muku, she knew the boy was far too meek to bring up [name]’s shortcomings on his own. Instead, her suspicions lied elsewhere. 

Several days ago, she remembered interrupting an argument between Masumi and Sakuya, one that both of them refused to tell her the details of but it was something that drove a slight wedge between them for a short while. It was odd at first, but now, in context to [name]’s sudden self-awareness, it made sense. Those two were witness to the troubling phone call she shared with her sister that day and it was obvious that _one_ of them said something to her that forced her to come to a realization. Unless it was merely a coincidence, the circumstances seemingly stacked in favor of those two’s involvement.

Truly, who would have thought they were going to be the ones to drive [name] into some kind of epiphany.


	20. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲.

╔═════════════╗

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

╚═════════════╝

Her emotions often felt like a glass bottle, swallowing her feelings until they overflowed from their confinement and burst into an irrepressible mess. Her music was possibly the sole outlet she had to release her pent up frustrations, but sometimes even that wasn’t enough. 

[name] liked to consider herself a strong person. She hated thinking about the flaws she carried and opted to ignore them if only to give herself peace of mind. Yet, there were things - _people_ \- who often reminded her, and that alone was among many reasons why she distanced herself from everyone else. Whether it was out of arrogance or just fear, she was rather determined to be alone. Her heart belonged to no one other than her family and her two childhood friends. To her, that was all she needed and she sought for nothing more or _anyone_ else. 

When did that stop being enough?

When did the presence of her childhood friends stop being enough? When did her sister’s support stop being _enough_? At what point in her life had she become so selfish?

Her thoughts swirled, melding all into one chaotic disarray of wants and desires she’s yet to fulfill. Despite her awareness of her own conceited nature, she continued to yearn for _more_ and _more_. The friends she had and the people who made their permanent place in her heart should have been enough. To want for anything more is just pure _greed_.

Where did she go wrong?

“I like you.”

The words felt like air being blown into her ears and against the rapid beating of her heart, they were almost completely drowned out. The differing emotions that swelled in her chest were suffocating and it only further probed her to wonder whether these feelings were ones that were meant to arise with the sudden confession from a close friend.

She’s overheard about these things from the girls in her class, they often fantasized about the day they’d receive a confession and giggled with blushing cheeks over their supposed answers. At the time, it all seemed so foolish for anyone to think about such things and in hindsight, maybe _she_ was the foolish one for not considering the possibility of it ever happening to her. Maybe if she’d listened to those girls more closely she might have known what to do in this very moment. 

[name] fidgeted in place, her gaze lowering to the floor in a vain effort to distract herself from the earnest expression her precious friend looked at her with. Even with her attempts to divert her attention away from the situation at hand, her thoughts echoed with nothing other than his previously spoken words. 

_‘I like you.’_

It’s meaning mystified her to no end. She couldn’t wrap her head around the reason _why_ her actions warranted such a response. Just what did it mean to like someone? What was it about her that attracted his affection? She wasn’t exceptionally beautiful, neither was she the most sociable and these were facts that he knew all too well and yet he _still_ desired _her_ as a romantic partner?

Despite her more pressing thoughts offering nothing more than another question of ‘ _why?’,_ she continued to stare down at the concrete floor and the rest of his words that followed after that impactful statement hadn’t reached her. The buzzing in her ears grew louder and she felt as if she were in a daze with her sluggish movements. 

The prospect of change was something that had always lingered in the back of her mind and it was a possibility she hated most. The idea of being placed in a situation she wasn't comfortable with and especially _no control over_ made her feel undeniably helpless. Although he had no knowledge of her hidden fear, he set out to do the very thing she never wanted. He wanted to change their relationship and the three words he spoke to her were meant to make her more aware of him as a person of the opposite gender rather than the precious friend she considered him as. That was the ulterior motive of his confession and it took her a few minutes to rationalize all the meaning behind it.

His feelings were genuine. She knew this the moment she lifted her gaze from the ground to meet the sincere expression he beheld her with. The idea of laughing his words off would have been cruel and she internally scolded herself for even thinking of doing it. While it was true that she wasn’t sure what to say in reply, she couldn’t blow him off or avoid the subject like she desperately wanted to. These were feelings that were undoubtedly built up over the many years they’ve spent together, yet there was still a feeling of guilt that built within her chest when she thought of how it was _her_ fault for unintentionally leading him on.

What could she have done to avoid this completely? Should she have been more distant? Less talkative? More private? What could she say to make things go back to the way they were?

The answers were obvious if she thought about it more in depth, though in this moment she wanted nothing more than to escape and ignore the turbulent emotions swelling within her. 

At her lack of an answer, or even a reaction in general, he halted in the middle of his nervous rambling to urge an answer from her directly. “[name]?”

She blinks at the soft call of her name, her lips parting into a curious gape. She still says nothing in the following seconds, only snapping back to reality after a small shake of her head. 

“I’m sorry, Muku.” She apologizes with a smile on her face that appeared far more empty than remorseful. “I, um, need some time. . . to think.”

* * *

The weight in his chest was the heaviest he’s ever felt. 

He couldn’t even begin to describe the panic coursing through his being in words, neither could he explain his reasoning for subjecting himself to such anxiety. He could call his confession a split second decision made only on the rush of emotion he felt in that moment, but that wasn’t the true extent of his choice. 

It wasn’t just a rush of emotion that prompted him, but years of pent up affection with no place to go. He finally hit his limit, an occasion he thought wouldn’t have come any time soon, yet after the performance it was ultimately inevitable. There were words that echoed within his head, ones that hadn’t belonged to himself or [name] but to his cousin, Juuza. 

_“I’m not planning on giving up on her anytime soon.”_

The ferocity apparent in his sharp gaze and the sincerity of his expression only further rung authenticity to his words. Incidentally, it was also what prompted Muku to act so irrationally as to rush something he meant to say a little further in the future. If [name]’s reaction, or rather lack thereof, were anything to go off of it was rather obvious that it was far too early for a confession. 

The more he thought about the situation he placed himself in, the more he began to regret ever thinking he could take matters into his own hands for once. For the better part of his life he’d always been the passive one, allowing whatever to happen without ever lifting his hand only due to his lack of confidence. It was one of the main reasons he admired people like [name] who were strong enough to strive for what they wanted when they wanted it. It was a feat he could never hope to replicate, a fact further proven by his total failure in controlling his emotions and allowing himself to become unnecessarily intimidated by Juuza’s offhand remark. 

It was nothing more than a reminder, a statement with the only intentions of pointing out his cousin’s remaining affection for [name], rather than the threat Muku took it as. If only he thought about it more thoroughly then he might have not felt as terrible as he did now and with no one to vent to, he was left to wallow in his own self-pity in the confines of his darkened room.

His decision to rush into things had obviously been the wrong choice. Each and every time he blinked or closed his eyes, he could see the absent expression on [name]’s features. The meaning behind her making such a face still eluded him and he took _some_ comfort in the knowledge that it was at least not an outright rejection.

Her assurance of thinking everything over would have spelled out ‘rejection’ to anyone who hadn’t known [name] as personally as he did. She was the type who preferred to base her decisions on logic rather than emotion. If she truly held no kind of romantic feelings towards him, she would have instantly rejected him in hopes of retaining their current friendship. Oddly enough, the wait which undoubtedly filled him with anxiety, also brought him comfort.

He shifted his position, his arm which draped over his eyes to further conceal himself in darkness dropped to his side and he blankly stared up towards the ceiling of his room. His rambling thoughts came to a still though the strangulating squeeze of his chest continued to torment him with each wave of nervousness. In all honesty, he didn’t know what he expected from [name]. Was what he wanted acceptance? Possibly, but the thought of pursuing a relationship with her only caused his cheeks to burn with red and mind to fizzle with embarrassing scenarios. As soon as the thought of holding her hand appeared in his mind, he couldn’t help but cradle his blushing cheeks in his hands before rolling around in his bed as if that would extinguish his embarrassment.

  
He _really_ hoped what he’d done wasn’t a mistake.

* * *

“You’re better at that thing than I thought.” 

With raised brows, [name] glanced over her shoulder towards the male tailing behind her. Her expression lit up in recognition, though she expressed no kind of joy in acknowledging his presence. Settsu Banri, the only person who’d ever address her with such a rough way of speaking.

“Oh, it’s you.” 

She frowned as she turned her attention back towards the street before continuing on her way towards home. The evening sun set hours ago and now the night sky and its twinkling stars took precedent. Her ears buzzed with the distant sound of cicadas and although it would have normally added to the peaceful ambience of her afterschool walk, she found the noise to be nothing but bothersome.

He scoffs, his brows furrowing with agitation though it doesn’t hinder his intent in taking his place at her side. “Forgot how nice it is talking to _you_.”

[name] shrugs her shoulders, fingers clenching the strap of her violin case. “So you saw it then. My performance.” Her gaze slides over towards him. “I thought you were lying when you said you’d come.” 

“If you stuck around after the show you would’ve seen me.” He casually remarks with a slightly tilted head towards the sky. She watches him through the side of her eye, taking note of his relaxed expression. “But I guess that’s not your fault. That pink haired guy took off with you before I could.”

He glanced at her, hands slipping into the pocket of his pants. “So what’d he want?”

“You’re surprisingly nosy.” [name] rose a brow, returning his stare with one that obviously claimed her dislike for the lack of privacy given to her by someone she wouldn’t even consider an acquaintance. “What he wanted isn’t any of your business.”

“You’re a lot more prickly than usual. . .” There’s a second of silence that passes between them before his face suddenly lights with a realization and his lips curve into a knowing grin. “So it’s somethin’ like _that_ then. . .”

Her brows tightly knit together as her eyes flutter shut for a brief moment and the frown on her lips becomes a permanent fixture. Her patience was wearing thin, she recognized, though she refused to react and play into the very obvious trap he set out for her.

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s most likely wrong.” She sighs, hands clenching the strap of her violin case even tighter with her rising anxiousness. Right now, she _really_ didn’t want to be reminded of the incident involving her childhood friend. “Drop it. _Please._ ”

Despite her reluctance to give him an inadvertent answer to his assumptions, she incidentally did just the opposite. He’d always thought of her as an overly serious person, but she had a politeness to her that he would have mistaken as a trait of a pushover. While he was determined to take advantage of that, he was delightfully surprised to find that she possessed some edge as well. 

Her snappy responses to his prying was far more entertaining than what he expected and paired with her alluring talent with the violin, he found her interesting. It made him wonder just what else she hid behind that front of utter obliviousness. 

“Fine, but in return you have to come with me somewhere.”

She shot him an incredulous look that suggested she didn’t have to do _anything_ he asked of her. “Why?”

“That doesn’t matter.” He stared down at her as they came to a stop at the fork in the road they would normally separate at. “And don’t worry about me bringin’ you anywhere weird. . .” He flicked his head towards the street that didn’t lead to her home. “It’s just to the store down the street.”

With an unsure glance towards the road she’d usually take, she pursed her lips. All she really wanted in that moment was to be home where she could strip herself of her uniform and finally forget about the one thing that completely soured her mood. Just as she was about to refuse him, her phone buzzed in her skirt pocket and the muffled meow of a cat immediately alarmed her of the person who just texted her.

Muku. Her expression dimmed.

“Fine.” She finally answered. Maybe the presence of someone else could help her forget. “Let’s go.”

Banri’s grin grew a little brighter at her acceptance and the both of them continued straight down the road towards the nearby convenience store. “You’re either way too trusting or too dumb to realize the danger in blindly following someone.”

_'You’re better than the alternative’,_ is what she internally thought. If she decided to go straight home, she’d undoubtedly be faced with the possibility of running into Muku or being questioned by her mother and sister about what happened after meeting up with Izumi. Both were things she didn’t want to deal with, at least not right now.

“If you’re planning on doing something, I won’t hesitate to use this.” She motions towards the violin case dangling against her hip, even gently knocking her knuckles against it to accentuate the fact it was made entirely out of metal. “Trust me, it hurts to get hit by this thing.”

“You’d hit me with your precious instrument?” His grin turns playful, completely entertained with her response. “Aren’t you afraid of breakin’ it?”

She can’t help her lips from cracking a small smile. “What? You think I only have _one_ violin?”

The silence they slip into is a lot more comfortable than she expected from someone as rough as Banri. He was abrasive, and most definitely outspoken, but it seemed as if even he had a quieter side to him. The taps of their shoes against the sidewalk was all that could be heard and as the evening continued to darken, only the lights lining the side of the street was all that guided their way. It was easy to slip into the mellow feeling the night brought on. 

“You have a lotta friends, don’t you?”

She shrugged her shoulders, a little more at ease now that there was a bit of distance between herself and her main problems. “Not really. Just my childhood friends and a couple of others. Why do you ask?”

“No reason in particular.” He cooly replies in an attempt to dismiss any suspicions she may have had. “You looked the type to be popular. I just wanted to see if it was true.”

[name] laughs through her nose, her expression filled with mirth. “That’s _very_ funny, Settsu-kun.”

“I’m sure you could tell, but I don’t get along with others too well.”

Whether she was aware of it or not, her expression held a certain note of melancholy that indicated her discomfort with her own words. He was well aware of how others at their school perceived her, yet it was different hearing it from the source herself.

He wasn’t sure if the slight tug at his chest was out of pity for her or building irritation.

The moment the two of them made it to the store, Banri was quick to place his hand on [name]’s shoulder and stop her from entering. She looked up at him with a confused expression and mouth agape as if she were asking _‘what are you doing?’_ without the use of words.

“I’ll be quick, so stay out here for a second.”

Although she was puzzled with his choice in keeping her outside, she nodded her head anyway. “If you take too long, I’m leaving.” She grumbled under her breath.

“Be patient, Tachibana. It’ll be worth it.”

Is what he said and when he finally emerged from the store after a couple of minutes, [name] wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but Banri carrying two pork buns in each hand definitely wasn’t it. Her brows slightly rose with mild astonishment and her nose twitched at the savory scent the two delectables carried.

“Here.” He offered one out to her and she took it into her grasp while muttering a quiet word of gratitude.

“Pork buns. . . I really wasn’t expecting this.” She lamely remarked as she stared down at the food in her hand. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t like them. . .” When she shook her head and took a bite, he smugly smirked at her brightened expression. “Good ain’t it?”

“Surprisingly.” She admitted as she swallowed her first bite. “This might be better than what I expected.”

“What did you _think_ I was gonna bring out?”

“Something sweet.” Her reply was quick and when her gaze met his, a smile graced her lips. “You remind me of someone and he kinda has a thing for sweets.”

Banri hummed as he plopped down onto the curb of the sidewalk. [name] followed shortly after him causing his ears to perk at the sound of her violin case settling on the concrete.

“How’d you find this place? I’ve lived here forever and never once noticed it before.”

“Found it while wanderin’ ‘round here.” He said as he finally took a bite of his most anticipated snack and as much as he wished to savor the taste, it only served as a reminder to him. Banri quickly swallowed his bite before turning his attention towards [name]. “And don’t go tellin’ anyone about it either! It’s a secret and it better remain that way.”

“Why share it with me then?”

“You looked like you needed it.” He faced forwards once more, staring off at the other side of the street where a nearby playground could be seen. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you were in a bad mood. Whatever happened, you don't need to worry about it anymore. At least for now.”

She stared at him for a second, contemplating his intentions and wondering whether this was his own way of being kind to her. Though she was well aware that pointing that out would only result in him vehemently denying it. She smiled to herself as she looked down at her hands and the steaming pork bun in her grasp. The sensation in her chest was warm and bubbly, a feeling she found herself liking. 

“Thanks, Settsu.”

Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she thought he was.


	21. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐎𝐧𝐞.

╔═════════════╗

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

╚═════════════╝

With nimble fingers and a bored expression, she stares at the single admission ticket fluttering between the pads of her thumb and index finger. The image of Sakuya’s smiling visage immediately came to mind as if reminded by the sight of the gift he gave her the last time they talked. Although she rarely spoke to him during the cultural festival, that didn’t mean he wasn’t occupying her mind.

His request for her presence at his show was what truly invaded her thoughts during the prolonged moments of silence she spent staring at his gifted ticket. She tried to recall the expression he wore and the words he used when he asked for her. It was an odd invitation from him and she wondered if there was any hidden meaning-

She quickly waved away the thought as her brows furrowed and she pondered just when she became so distrustful of someone who had yet to wrong her. It was obvious where her sudden cautious way of thinking stemmed from and although she could never blame Muku outright, it was undoubtedly due to his words that she no longer took actions at face value and instead sought for the deeper meanings behind every minuscule choice.

Muku’s feelings were genuine and she had to remind herself to not blame him for those precious words he shared with her that day. That included not faulting him for the change in her thinking as well.

With a pensive sigh, she lowered the ticket down onto her desk and directed her gaze towards the filled sheets of manuscript spread out before her for inspection. The melody could be heard playing within the confines of her mind and each note had only served to remind her of the redhead she unexpectedly befriended.

While it was undeniably true that Sakuya remained as her source of inspiration, what truly prompted her into finishing her piece was the looming deadline of the Niijimura recital. The day after tomorrow was when she would stand before hundreds of important and influential figures in an attempt to impress them enough to give her money. The headmaster might have told her that it was an important event but that didn’t mean she would allow that fact to get in the way of her true goal.

She needed to make money for Izumi and this recital only served as a way of meeting that goal. Nothing more.

Despite knowing the recital held little to no importance to _her_ , she still needed to give it her all and the song she created was meant to embody all of that effort. She just hoped it would be enough to capture the hearts of the people who’d listen.

_Maybe I should give him a call?_

The thought was tempting enough for her to reach for her phone and scroll through her contacts for the one person she had in mind. There weren't many who were honest with her like he was and though most would have found his candid nature to be bothersome, she found it to be extremely helpful especially when she was unsure of herself.

Her gaze lingered on his name for a moment longer before she finally relented and tapped to call his number. Her phone rang in her ear for a few seconds before the sound of his voice greeted her.

“ _[name]?”_

“Are you busy?” She immediately starts off, the fingers of her free hand tapping impatiently against her desk. “I need a favor.”

She can hear him breathe a sigh and once again she was reminded just how much he did for her despite holding little interest in music. With a small smile painting her lips, she silently made a note to treat him to something in the near future.

_“What is it this time?”_

His trademark brusque tone was something that brought her an odd sense of comfort. While it hadn’t been too long since their last conversation, she still felt that burst of excitement in her chest at the sound of his voice.

“Could you listen to my new piece? I’m still kind of unsure about it. . .” She quickly tapped her screen to switch to speakerphone before moving towards her violin case lying atop her bed. “I’ll make sure to treat you to something nice later.”

There’s a moment of silence from his end that makes her halt in her step and peer over her shoulder towards her phone. For a moment, she almost thinks he’s about to reject her. _“. . . Fine.”_

She grins at his response, elated that his overt love for sweets seemingly overcame his reluctance to help her. With a bit of a skip in her step, she quickly unlatched her case before retrieving her precious instrument.

_“Your solo at the festival. . .”_ He begins just as she was about to sit back down at her desk chair. _“It wasn’t bad. You did good.”_

She laughed through her nose, grin persisting at his laughably curt compliment. Of course it wasn’t like she was expecting much from him especially since he wasn’t the type to gush over others even if they were as close to him as she is.

“You were there?” She idly comments as she lifts the violin up to her shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d be able to make it. . . What about your school?”

_“I skipped.”_ He lamely remarks as if what he said wasn’t at all somewhat out of character for him.

Sure, Juuza may have _looked_ like a delinquent but that didn’t mean he _acted_ like one. It wasn’t like him to willingly skip school and even when there were days when he _really_ didn’t want to go, he still did if only to keep his parents from worrying. Squinting her eyes at the phone sitting atop her desk next to her, [name] noted to bring up the subject again the next time they saw each other in person.

With a deep breath, she forced herself to relax before lifting her right hand. The bow she held in her grip sailed through the air as it drew against the strings of her violin, producing a mellow sound that filled the expanse of her room. Immediately, her senses were invaded by a light wash of pink that encompassed a sense of tender comfort. The accompanying pastel blues and purples offered more of an insight on the nostalgic emotion [name] was trying to convey through sound alone.

To her, this song was a memory of sorts. The melody reminded her of her distant childhood memories; days that were often filled with smiles and carefree laughter. It’s a phase of her life that she grew out of and although the people from those faint memories moved on with or without her, she created the melody with them in mind.

It wasn’t like her to reflect on the past, but even she couldn’t deny the appeal those past memories held. Her right hand dipped, causing the song to sound more delicate as the notes lowered in tone. Darker pinks that almost bordered red, replaced the pastel colors and along with the new shade, came the intense feeling of longing. It lingered in the depths of her chest, pinching at her heart and lightly twisting it as if reminding her of its presence. The song, which she played so expertly to invoke such emotions was one she created with a certain person in mind.

For some reason, the redhead which she found herself so profoundly drawn to, was the one person on her mind during the whole process of her songwriting. The melody was filled to the brim with sounds that reminded her of him and the emotions that coincided with him were ones that he unintentionally invoked within her. Sakuya was the embodiment of nostalgia for her. Being around him for the past few months had only confirmed the idea that his presence incited her past memories which she thought to have forgotten completely. The nostalgia he brought forth wasn’t something she disliked and instead, she found herself wanting to spend _more_ time with him if only to satisfy her curiosity over her unusual interest in him.

Why was it around him that she felt so calm? What was it about him that had her wanting to be more open and allow him to get closer to her when she once thought of him as nothing more than another classmate?

Her song which sounded like a comforting lullaby also held notes of discord as a way to convey her slight aversion to her muse’s tender allure. Her message to him could never be spoken aloud and so she relied on her sound to say the words she’d never have the courage to speak.

The moment her song ends with a drawn out note, she stares blankly ahead almost as if she were in a daze. Her gaze inches over towards her idle phone and she breathes a sigh of relief when she can still see Juuza’s name across her screen, indicating that he had yet to hang up on her.

“So. . . what do you think?” She finally speaks, her eyes dropping away from her phone as she settles her violin onto her lap.

_“Good enough to win a recital.”_

While his words would hardly be enough to be considered a review, [name] was well aware that was the best compliment she’d get out of him without pushing him for more. She didn’t doubt his opinion as he was far too honest to lie about the quality of her sound especially when he knows how important music was to her. With a smile, she amusedly shakes her head.

“Funny you should say that,” She remarks as her fingers idly pluck at the strings of her violin. “This song is what I’m playing at a recital soon. I’m hoping you’ll be able to come.”

There’s a bit of silence that passes and the built up excitement lingering from the song she just finished playing begins to once again swell within her chest. It’s an anxiousness she was all too familiar with and a sensation she couldn’t say she enjoyed in the least.

_“. . . When is it?”_

The frown on her lips curved into a smile and she responded with a bit of chirp in her tone due to the elation she felt with the confirmation of his attendance. “The day after tomorrow. I’ll give you your ticket in the morning.”

He grunted in response and just as she was about to bid him goodnight, he interrupted her with a call of her name.

_“About your song,”_ She perked in response to the subject and though she thought he was done with giving his opinion, judging from the tone of his voice it seemed that he had more to add. _“It kind of sounded like it was meant for someone. . . Did you play it with a specific person in mind?”_

[name] blinked in surprise at his scarily accurate assumption. He was completely right with his guess, yet she was far too embarrassed and caught off guard to truthfully confirm that fact.

“O-Of course not!” She fumbled with reddened cheeks and strained laughter. For once she was glad that she decided against visiting Juuza’s home to play for him in person like she thought of doing hours earlier. If he couldn’t tell her obvious lie from her stutter, then he was sure to figure it out from her blushing cheeks.

“Anyway, goodnight Juu-chan.”

Hastily, she hung up on him before he could say anything more that would cause her to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. With another sigh, she rose from her seat to put away her violin before falling face-first into the plush comforter on her bed. Her hands balled into fists on either side of her head and with a muffled groan she lamented over her conversation with her childhood friend.

She couldn’t believe that her feelings were obvious enough for _Juuza_ , of all people, to catch onto them. If they were that clear-cut then Sakuya would have little to no trouble catching on as well and just thinking about the conversation that would take place after he listened to her song was already dreadful enough. It was far too late to write a whole new song now and there was no way she was going to let all of those countless hours she spent creating it to go to waste.

She could only hope that Sakuya was just as dense as he looked.

* * *

“Eh? You’re _coming?!”_

With an irritated expression decorating her normally serene features, [name] silently glared at her phone with the vain hope that her sister would feel its edge. Though she would have liked to snap at her sister for being far too noisy at seven in the evening, she decided against saying anything if only out of courtesy for the people standing around her.

Instead, she opted to breathe a sigh before carrying on the conversation as if her older sister did _not_ just burst her left eardrum. “Sakuma-kun invited me. I thought he would have mentioned it to you. . .”

“Sakuya, huh. . .” Izumi hummed before impishly giggling to herself over something [name] couldn’t even begin to fathom. “Well, okay!” She suddenly chirped and the abrupt switch in tones only further confused [name]. “That means I’ll be seeing you _very_ soon then.”

“Yeah. . .” Her brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as her mind frazzled to wrap her head around her sister’s odd behavior. “I guess so.”

Izumi giggled once again before an audible click could be heard and the line dropped. [name] continued to stare at the dark screen momentarily until the sound of a soft ding brought her out of her thoughts. She glanced up at the traffic light, taking note of the green light before moving along with everyone else towards the other side of the street. 

She was undeniably the worst with her sense of direction and would have normally gotten severely lost by now, but she was thankfully blessed with a considerate friend like Sakuya who pinged her the theater’s location earlier in the morning. It somewhat warmed her heart knowing that he kept such a small detail about her in mind, especially since it was so insignificant that even _she_ forgot about it sometimes. With a small smile on her face, [name] continuously glanced up from the device in her hands before staring at it once again to confirm she was going the right way.

The theater was only a few meters away from her, she could see it peeking out from the side of other buildings and with a bit of a triumphant grin picking up at her lips, she took several more strides to finally stand before its double doors. There were numerous people who were entering with tickets identical to her own and for a moment, she was a bit surprised at the number of people who wanted to see the show. There were a few she could make out to be high schoolers, most of them being girls who wished to see Hanasaki high’s infamous prince on stage.

While it was never her intention of ever thinking about Usui Masumi for longer than a second, the appearance of his undeserved fanclub surely reminded her of the words of gratitude she meant to tell him long after the cultural festival. It might have not been his plan to unintentionally mend the relationship she shared with her sister, but [name] still felt a sense of appreciation to him for thinking about Izumi’s emotional wellbeing. 

Of course, that didn’t mean she was intending to hand her older sister over to him anytime soon. No matter how thankful she was to him, that was a decision she’d never concede on.

Once she approached the ticket booth located just in front of the theater’s entrance, she presented her ticket to the man who then scanned it before ripping off the perforated portion of it. She muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ to the stranger before taking back her ripped ticket and following the rest of the theater's patrons into the building.

The moment she entered she was once again reminded of the first time she’d ever visited. Though at the time it was a lot emptier and didn’t feel as crowded, it gave her a sense of just how big the auditorium was and how it differed from the other theater halls she visited in the past. Around her, there were people calmly filing into rows of seats or the occasional person who’d stray from the group to join with their friends. There wasn’t meant to be any specific seating; it was pretty much running on a ‘first come, first served’ basis which she found to not be as chaotic as it sounded. 

Her gaze traversed through the area in search for the familiar figure of her sister who promised to save her a front row seat through an earlier text message. When she finally spotted her sister’s grinning face and eagerly waving arm, she weaved in between the taller figures of others to reach her.

Izumi was quick to envelop [name] into a smothering hug complete with a nuzzle of her cheek against [name]’s which irritated her to no end. Despite her feelings towards the embarrassing display of affection, [name]’s cheeks still blossomed in red and her lips quivered to fight against the smile she desperately wanted to display. She had forgotten how nice Izumi’s hugs were. “I missed you _so, so_ much!”

“It hasn’t even been that long. You saw me two _days_ ago. . . Now, do you mind letting me go?” When her sister refused to relent, the younger girl breathed a feigned sigh of defeat before she allowed her older sister to do as she pleased.

“Are you excited?” Izumi murmured against her sister’s hair before pulling away to plop down in the seat beneath her. She glanced up at the younger girl with eyes filled with a mixture of both enthusiasm and trepidation. “I’m a bit nervous myself. . .”

[name] sat herself down next to her sister, her head turned to direct her attention on the oldest Tachibana. Izumi’s anxiety was evident from the wringing of her hands and shaking of her leg, yet she tried her best to appear calm and collected. [name] was well aware of where her nervousness originated from and that was from nothing other than the huge condition placed on her by that yakuza guy she briefly mentioned weeks ago.

If she didn’t have a full house today, then he was going to demolish the theater completely. It was a bit of a harsh condition considering how Izumi was just roped into the whole director business purely by accident and then she was expected to build the company from the ground up with only _a month_ to work with. It was unfairly cruel and [name] held no doubt that the guy was probably hoping for her sister’s failure. Still, despite all of her unfortunate circumstances, Izumi had yet to give up and now she could only hope that the fruits of her hard labor would save this place. Even if it didn't exactly deserve it.

Taking Izumi’s hand into her own, [name] offered a comforting smile. “Don’t worry, onee-chan. You’ve done well so far, I’m sure everything will work out in the end.”

With adoration mixed with gratitude painting her features, Izumi gaped at her sister as if she said something truly astounding. “[name]. . .” She called as her lips widened into a grin and small tears pricked at the edge of her eyes. 

Before [name] could say anything in response, Izumi threw herself over the armrest between them in order to engulf her sister into another embrace. Muffled ‘thank you’s, as well as teary proclamations of love, were spoken against [name]’s neck as her sister tightened her hold on her. Another sigh and a grin lifted upon her lips as she comfortingly patted her older sister’s back.

“Thank you for all your hard work, onee-chan.”

* * *

Sakuya’s performance was a bit different than what [name] was expecting.

It wasn’t as if she thought the show would have gone bad because this was the accumulation of Izumi’s work and there was no way [name] would have ever _considered_ the possibility of things falling apart. What was unexpected, and something she truly had no idea would be coming, was the fact that she thoroughly _enjoyed_ it. Sakuya’s acting was impressive and though she could still see some obvious things he needed work on, his performance was still enough to dazzle the audience. Especially _her_.

That color that she often sought from him, the unique hues that inspired brilliance completely masked over her senses like a sweet haze. She could hear differing melodies in her head, sounds that made her eyes widen as she took in all of the sights before her like it would be the last thing she’d ever see. She attempted to memorize everything in that performance, every line Sakuya spoke, and every expression he made she wanted to commit to memory. No detail escaped her and for only a few moments longer, she wished to relish in the luminance Sakuya unknowingly emitted.

Even after the show finished and the lights brightened as the actors participated in a traditional curtain call, her eyes never left his familiar figure. He completely enraptured her, and it was only until she heard the loud applause of those around her that she finally snapped back to reality. 

The palms of her hands clapped against one another in rapid succession and when her gaze finally connected with the dazzling redhead who she now saw in a new light, she didn’t hesitate to return his zealous grin.

Theater was something she never thought she could bring herself to love if only out of spite for the father that left her, but there was something about it that she just couldn’t keep her eyes off of. It was only for that brief moment that she realized the appeal both her sister and father found with the Mankai company and though she could never truly understand it, she decided that it couldn’t be as bad as she once believed it to be. 

For now, she’ll settle for witnessing the progressive radiance that solely belonged to her muse, Sakuya.


	22. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐰𝐨.

╔═══════════════╗

𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

╚═══════════════╝

Whether she was ready or not, the day of her recital dawned upon her, and with it came the cumbersome weight of anxiety and self-doubt. 

Performances were nothing new to her and the anxiety she felt hadn’t stemmed from the fact that she was going to stand before thousands in a matter of hours, instead, it lied with her concern over her newest piece. She was unsure if her song would win her the cash prize she desperately desired and though both her sister along with Juuza complimented her work, that sensation of uneasiness lingered within her chest. 

Under her desk, her hands shook whilst her fingers nervously weaved together with a tight squeeze. The impatient tapping of her foot against the tiled floor of her classroom hadn’t gone unnoticed by a certain redhead seated a few seats in front of her and through the side of his eye, he’d shoot her figure an occasional worried glance.

He knew exactly what today was as he was reminded by the ticket she gifted him at the front gates of their school in the morning and though she wore a casual smile upon her lips when she gave it to him, he could still tell she was feeling a bit uneasy. He could somewhat relate to her on that aspect as yesterday he felt the same just hours before his first real performance at the theater. To him, her anxiousness made her feel a bit more human; more _real_ , if that made any sense. Before, when he regarded her as nothing more than an admired classmate, he believed she was akin to a robot. She never once showed much emotion that would spell out her weakness and on the rare occasion he was aware of an upcoming recital or competition she was participating in, she refused to display any distress (if she had any, to begin with).

The moment the bell for lunch rung and midday class was finally dismissed, Sakuya expected nothing more than for [name] to go running off towards the music room to squeeze in another practice session but instead, he was greeted with her ambling by his desk only to stop right next to it. With a bit of confusion painted upon his features, he glances up at her and hesitantly asks her if she needed something from him.

“You’re going to meet up with Usui-kun, aren’t you?” At her question, he blankly nods his head. “You don’t mind me tagging along, do you? I have something I need to say to him.”

He doesn’t quite understand it at first since only a few weeks ago, [name] was grumbling her extreme dislike of the raven-blond haired male that even the mention of his name would cause her lip to curl and eyes narrow into a glare. Now, it didn’t seem as if she held _any_ animosity towards him, and rather she looked as if she could care less that it was _Masumi_ they were setting out to see.

It made him wonder just what exactly happened between them that made his presence a bit more tasteful to her. While he was aware that there was a small dispute between them concerning [name]’s older sister, which he unnecessarily added himself in after lightly scolding the younger male for butting into what could be considered personal family business, he didn’t think [name] would so easily accept Masumi’s words or expect anything to come out of it. Still, despite his uncertainty of her feelings towards the younger male, he welcomed her along with a friendly smile.

“You don’t have to ask, Tachibana-san. Of course, you’re welcome to come along anytime.”

She returns his smile with a smaller one of her own and after retrieving his lunch from the inside of his desk, he begins to lead her towards the rooftop where he and Masumi chose as their designated place to meet up for lunch. There's a pleasant conversation shared between them as they traverse the school’s hallways and climb the two flights of stairs that lead towards the rooftop’s entrance. With him mainly asking about the song she was planning on performing that evening and oddly enough at his question, her cheeks dusted a light pink and she shyly fidgeted with her fingers as if the inquiry embarrassed her. 

"It’s a secret.” She muttered with eyes flitting from the steps beneath her feet to his curious gaze. “To-Tonight you’ll find out for yourself.”

At her surprisingly meek response and her demure features, Sakuya was once again reminded of her hidden appeal that he seemed to be the only one who took any real notice of. With a smile that proclaimed a small portion of the flourishing endearment he held for her, he mercifully dropped the subject that seemed to have brought her an unusual amount of embarrassment. 

“So what do you want with Masumi-kun?” His question earns him a curious blink from [name] that he mistakes as a look of apprehension and quickly he attempts to assuage her worries of him prying into something personal. “It's okay if you don't want to tell me!”

“I need to thank him.” She simply states as if her response hadn’t provided more questions than answers.

If he remembered correctly, their last encounter wasn’t affable in the least, and Sakuya could still recall the sour look on Masumi’s face when he first told him of the argument between himself and their director’s sister. While it initially surprised him to hear that Masumi inputted himself in a situation he had no involvement in, it was more surprising to hear that [name] didn’t hold it against him. The oddity of it all made him wonder just how their last conversation went. 

“You and Usui-kun eat on the roof?” She asks as she curiously blinks at the metal grey door separating them from the outside.

“It’s quieter up there and not as many people bother us.”

At his words, her brows raise and she nods with a bit of understanding. “Ah, Usui-kun’s fanclub. . .” 

Sakuya merely offers weak laughter in response as his own way of confirming her accurate assumption. Somewhat amused with the fact that even the ever oblivious [name] was aware of the army of girls who were prominent in their desire to follow the aloof male around everywhere he went.

After her earlier observation, [name] said nothing more which prompted Sakuya into opening the door to the rooftop before motioning her through it. He trailed behind her, watching with a small smile on his lips as she glanced around the rooftop with a hint of fascination. To him, it was endearing to see her curious glances around the area which made it all the more apparent of this being her first time coming here.

It was only until her gaze landed on the relaxed figure of a certain raven-blond she once considered to be her enemy up until now. With his back against the metal railing of the rooftop and his headphones blasting muffled music she could barely make out, she would have almost assumed he wasn’t in the mood to be bothered and it was only due to Sakuya’s reassuring nudge forward that she continued her approach. 

“Usui-kun!” She calls and though she’s sure he wouldn’t have been able to hear her over his music, he perks in response to her voice. 

Violet colored eyes flicker over towards her approaching figure and just for a moment, his gaze widens with a flash of recognition. Even if it were brief, lasting no more than a split second, he almost mistook her for his beloved director. His lips parted slightly before the lids of his eyes lowered and his gaze fell from her own.

“What?” He mutters as he pushes his headphones to hang around his neck.

Standing before his seated figure with a look of slight apprehension, [name] fidgets under his stare before willing herself to speak. “I wanted to thank you.”

Her head bows slightly along with her words of gratitude and with them, Masumi couldn’t help but feel a little abashed. In his bewilderment, he glances over towards Sakuya standing at her side for unspoken answers, though the redhead merely offered a nod of his head as silent assurance. 

“And I wanted to apologize for what I said the last time we spoke. You were right and it was wrong of me to say those things.” She squeezes her hands which are intertwined together at her front and her lips lift into a simple smile to further place sincerity in her words. “I can tell you really care about my sister so I appreciate you looking out for her.”

She offered another grateful grin before bowing her head once more and departing from both Masumi and Sakuya without another word. Even without knowing the younger Tachibana too well, he could tell that approaching him with the intent of expressing her thanks wasn’t easy for her. His eyes lingered on her figure for a moment longer and only broke away at the sound of Sakuya’s muffled laughter.

“The director wasn’t lying when she said her sister was easy to fluster.” Despite his laughter dying off, his smile hadn’t. He stared ahead towards [name] who was idly conversing with the only other group of students occupying the rooftop. “But. . . I think it’s kinda cute.”

Masumi stares hard at the redhead’s profile, attempting to figure out just what the male meant by his words and the gentle expression directed towards [name]. Though to Masumi, who felt something similar to the violinist’s older sister, it was fairly obvious what Sakuya was experiencing, and without much thought, he brought forth a fairly innocent question.

“Hey,” He prods Sakuya out of his momentary dreamy state and the male turns towards him with a curious gape. “Do you like her?”

“Who?” Though there was no one who immediately came to mind in terms of capturing his affection, he still felt his cheeks redden only from the thought of liking someone. 

Masumi paused for a moment, his gaze dragging away from his friend towards the back of [name] who was finally heading towards the roof’s exit after her brief conversation. “[name].” He states matter-of-factly, almost as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you like [name]?”

* * *

“It’ll be fine, so stop worrying.”

His insincere placations did little to quell her growing anxiety and instead, she only felt herself becoming more stressed out. With a light glare masking over her docile coffee brown eyes, she stares at her older brother with a look that conveys her ire with him. He offers nothing more in response other than a careless shrug of his shoulders as he slumps deeper into the cushioned chair. 

The finger she taps against her arm becomes a bit harsher as she feels her patience dwindle to nothing. Cautiously, she glances around the mostly empty hall before leaning closer towards her seated brother. “Otou-sama told us to make sure this recital is a success and it _won’t_ be if you can’t care enough to recruit people for the second round!”

Her tone, although lowered, still carries that harsh edge that causes the pale blond-haired boy to gain a look of agitation. The mention of his father was a sore subject his younger sister was all too aware of and she was quick to use his hate for the older man against him. Sneering at her with the nastiest glare he could muster, he rose to his feet which caused her to stagger back.

“I really hate when you act like that, Chisako.” His height compared to her own only added to the intensity of his glare and soon enough the younger girl breaks his gaze in favor of watching her fidgeting hands. There’s a moment that passes then a sigh that could be heard from her brother before a gentle pat is given to her head; an indication of his forgiveness for her unspoken apology. “I’ll listen to people but you shouldn’t let that old man boss you around like this.”

He softly ruffles her matching blonde tresses, a huff leaving his lips. “He’s not even here and he's still somehow in control of us.” 

She lifts her head when she notices him leaving her side. Her brown eyes blink curiously at his departing figure before another wave of anxiety courses her being. “O-Onii-chan!”

“I’m just getting something to drink before everyone gets here.” Without looking back or stopping in his stride, he leisurely waves his hand. “And _no_ I’m _not_ planning on ditching so don’t follow me.”

Chisako heaves an exasperated sigh, her head gently shaking in silent disappointment. Even _if_ she wanted to chase after her hard-headed brother, she couldn’t. Not with the responsibility of running her father’s recital resting on her shoulders. There were far too many things she needed to do before the set time for the participants to arrive and in only a couple of more hours, influential figures who were meant to make up the audience would fill up the venue.

The moment her brother’s figure disappears from her view, her body relaxes and her arms which were crossed over her chest, drop to her sides. Her thin brows are furrowed with worry and along with her brother’s departure comes the feeling of guilt. As much as she wished for her beloved father to get along with her older brother, she knew it couldn’t be magically fixed in a day, let alone with the older man being casually brought up as if the subject hadn’t caused her brother pain.

“Sorry, Haru,” Chisako muttered under her breath, her murmured apology never to reach the intended person. _‘I should have never brought him up.’_

“Niijimura-san!” She perked at the call of her last name and when she whipped around towards one of the caters in charge of the event, her expression evened out to vanquish any traces of her earlier remorse. “Some of the guests are already arriving, should we start the preparations for food?”

Chisako blinked, her eyes widening as the words of the head cater sunk in. “They’re here already?!” At the woman’s nod, she frantically waved her hands in a shoo-ing motion. “Of course! Hurry and do whatever you must to get this place looking presentable!”

The woman snapped to attention, quickly turning heel before voicing her rushed affirmations. Soon after she issued her command there was a shuffle of movements from the staff around her. She looked on with a critical eye, her brown gaze glancing over their work and assuring it was of the quality deserving of people with too much money to spend. 

  
_‘Don’t worry, otou-sama,’_ She inwardly assured not only herself but a man who’d most likely never appreciate her efforts. _‘I won’t disappoint you.’_

* * *

The thought of having to perform in front of others shouldn’t have bothered her and it didn’t. Her nervousness mainly lied with the fact that her song may not capture her audience’s attention enough to win her first place. More than anything her eyes were set on that prize money and getting anything other than first place would defeat the whole purpose of participating in something she’d normally avoid. 

Taking a moment to assure herself as well as to calm her steadily building nerves, [name] then proceeded to enter the luxurious hotel following behind others who seemed to be carrying instruments similarly to her. Brilliantly colored [eye color] eyes filled to the brim with profound curiosity, glanced across the opulent lobby belonging to none other than the _Chiharu_ hotel. While she’s never once been inside if only because of the huge expense a room would cost for only a single night, it was said that the hotel chain was exclusively owned by the Niijimura family. As impressed as she was with the family’s show of wealth, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat underprepared for just how much they were willing to spend on a recital that seemed to be utterly insignificant. No matter how much she thought about it, she just couldn’t figure out what exactly the Niijimura family would gain from holding a recital.

_‘Entertainment for the rich, I suppose.’_ She summarized, her lips pulling to a stubborn frown. _‘If it’s a show they want then it’s a show they’ll get.’_

Throughout the lobby, the sound of footsteps tapping against the marble floors resounded through the hall and the echo of it only further emphasized the lobby’s massive size. The few people around her that didn’t appear to be one of the many participants in the recital, were dressed in elegant suits and gowns. In their hands, they carried thin glasses of bubbly champagne and their sharp gazes regarded her passing figure with scrutiny she wasn’t quite used to. For once, she was glad she decided to show up dressed correctly rather than waiting until she arrived like she usually did for recitals. At least she could _somewhat_ fit in with her black and white formal recital dress.

Yet their judgemental stares felt like nothing compared to the eyes of those inside the decorated banquet hall. Many more of the recital’s attendees congregated within the large hall, mingling with one another and conversing over things no one other than their fellow privileged would care about. Round tables were scattered across the room and stacked neatly atop their white-clothed surfaces were plates of various sizes. Situated atop a long table were rows upon rows of decadent food that hadn’t failed to make [name]’s mouth water. Along with the grand vases of delicately placed flowers, the general decor of the room provided [name] with a sense of awkwardness with its elegance. Never had she felt more out of place than she did at that very moment. It almost made her wonder if it were even _possible_ for her to impress a crowd of people who most likely held no kind of similarities to herself. 

“Welcome everyone to the Niijimura recital!” 

Pulled out of her bout of self-doubt, [name] stopped in her tracks in order to direct her attention towards the small-statured girl standing at the front of the room upon the stage. Long, pale blonde hair fashioned in loosely curled waves and round doe eyes the color of coffee, were among the main features of the girl who addressed not only the gathered crowd of participants but the recital’s attendees as well. Her voice was soft, yet her tone held a certainty that almost commandeered those she addressed to listen. 

“My name is Niijimura Chisako and tonight I’ll be your host in our pursuit to find the musicians worthy enough to pass on to the recital’s exclusive second round!”

The excited grin she bears is one that [name] doesn’t doubt the sincerity of. And though the young girl continues to divulge information, mainly the introduction of the chosen few to participate in the recital, the whispers of the nearby attendees draw her attention instead.

“Ah, so _that’s_ the rumored Niijimura child.” There’s a pitiful sigh that leaves the painted lips of the woman loudly whispering to her acquaintance. “Poor girl. With a birthmark that big on her face, she’ll have trouble finding anyone who _doesn’t_ think she’s unsightly.”

"That shouldn't matter. Her father has more than enough money to _buy_ her a husband if she asked for it." 

[name]’s brows furrow, her eyes slightly narrowing as a quiet scoff escapes her lips. The gossiping ladies’ laughter went ignored as [name] glanced back up towards the stage where the small girl still stood. Her eyes roved the expanse of Chisako’s pale face and the moment that she swept a stray lock of lightly colored hair away from the left part of her face, [name] finally saw it. Covering a better portion of her upper cheek and the entirety of her left eye as well as the left side of her forehead, was an opaque splotch dark red in color. Its appearance completely contrasted with the light color of both her skin and hair, causing it to stand out more than usual. 

“Participants,” She addressed with her persistent brightened smile. “Even if you don’t win today, a few of you will be personally invited to a more exclusive recital; one where you could win even more money and compete with the most talented classical musicians carefully picked from across the nation!” She happily clapped her hands together as her voice gained a more encouraging tone. “So, make sure to put forth your best efforts in impressing all of us!”

With that, Chisako offered a polite bow before leaving the stage completely to disappear elsewhere. As she and the rest of the participants were ushered backstage, the reality of the situation set in.

Her performance, whether she was ready for it or not, was about to begin.

* * *

“So, what did you think about that one?”

Chisako’s tone held a note of desperation that Haru couldn’t help but roll his eyes at. The chair he sat in creaked as he leaned forward to rest his head on his propped up arm as his expression twisted to convey his utter boredom.

“Boring.” He remarked as he stared ahead at the musician occupying the stage. “None of their songs are interesting. _At all.”_

“Eh? We’re already down to the last few contestants and you still haven’t heard _anyone_ you like! Please take this seriously, onii-chan!”

_“I am.”_ Haru glanced at her through the side of his eye, taking note of her frantic expression, before returning his attention back to the person onstage. “I can’t help it if none of them are good enough.”

While each performance he’d seen so far proclaimed the technical prowess of every musician, he couldn’t help but feel as though something was missing. Nothing stood out to him and at this point, each song was beginning to blend all into one dull catastrophe. He couldn’t differentiate any of their sounds and though he wanted nothing more than to choose someone randomly in order to get the whole event over with, he knew doing something as careless as that would only incur the wrath of his oppressive father. No matter what, Haru wanted to keep that man overseas for as long as he could, and messing up now would only shorten his father’s trip.

At the end of the current musician’s performance, he along with everyone else politely applauded. Even if he didn’t wish to see his father, he was beginning to seriously consider just choosing whoever or ditching the event altogether. 

“This last one will impress you for sure!” At her confident response, Haru raised a brow as he tilted his head in her direction. His expression must have conveyed his disbelief as Chisako was quick to quell his doubt with another one of her assurances. “I’ve heard her play before and she’s really good! I promise.”

The sparkle apparent in Chisako’s brown eyes was enough to instill some faith back into Haru and with a stubborn frown, he turned his gaze back towards the stage. Only a moment after the previous musician exited the stage, another one took his place. 

Though it wasn’t uncommon to see adults taking part in the prestigious recital, it was a lot rarer to see someone around his age standing on stage before him. It couldn’t have been a mistake, right? With a glance down at the pamphlet lying on his and Chisako’s table, he skimmed over the list of participant’s names accompanied by small portraits of their faces. 

_Tachibana [name] (17)._

His gaze returned back towards the violinist on stage, plum-colored eyes roving the expanse of her features to compare them with the photo included in the pamphlet. Her expression was masked in serenity, a direct contrast to the blank look she wore in the snapshot, yet he could still distinctly recognize her which only further prodded his curiosity in the skill she must have possessed to earn a place within the recital. 

The moment she lifted her violin up to her shoulder and drew her bow against its strings, it felt as if the world came to a stop. Her expression was reminiscent, a reminder of something he couldn’t quite put a finger on and her sound provoked an emotion he hadn’t thought about in _years_.

The girl who played her instrument as delicately as she looked, created a sound of nostalgia. Her gaze which was hidden under thick lashes held a subtle fire in them that would flare along with each crescendo. He felt as if he were in a daze watching her play and he spent each passing second savoring her song and relishing in the sight of her impassioned figure. The flutter of her hair as she swayed back and forth on the stage was just as mesmerizing as her hopeful song. It was clear from her ardent movements and precise notes that the song was important to her and somehow, whether it was intentional or not, she made the audience _feel_ just how precious it was to her.

The song was instilled with the treasured feelings of spring and new beginnings. It was almost as if she were forcefully pushing her hidden emotions into all who listened. Within the song’s optimistic message, he could detect hints of apprehension; a feeling that was all too common with the start of something new as well as the sorrow of change.

It was peculiar how well this girl was able to impart her own personal feelings onto her audience. It reminded Haru of someone, a person he wasn’t all too fond of though he could never deny their talent. His lips curved into a scowl at the sudden revelation that dawned upon him. 

This girl, Tachibana [name], played a lot like his father.

* * *

The resounding applause that filled the hall after her final note aroused her from her dazed stupor. 

Eyes brimmed with tears she quickly blinked away, glanced over the room as her lips part in a gape that conveyed her appall. As her gaze dragged towards a specific table near the front of the room in order to gauge the reaction of the recital’s host, who she assumed would also play the part of a judge, she met the intense stare of a boy who looked strikingly similar to the blonde hostess.

His features were more refined than the young Niijimura heiress. While Chisako appeared soft and approachable, this boy looked the complete opposite. Not even once throughout their brief stare down had he thrown a smile her way or even a nod of acknowledgment of her performance. He looked as if he were in deep thought, but the scowl he wore on his pretty lips suggested that whatever those thoughts were, they weren't good.

It was an undeniable fact that he was attractive. It was apparent from his pretty features that not only included his deep plum colored eyes lined with wispy lashes, but the silky tresses of pale blonde that fell across his forehead and appeared to have been meticulously styled. The similarities between him and the hostess were the shape of their slender faces and the lightly colored locks they both possessed. Despite not knowing much about the Niijimura family, [name] could only assume the boy Chisako sat next to was her older brother. 

Next, her gaze drifted towards the table her sister and invited guests would be assigned and already she felt herself growing flustered with the amount of attention her sister was unknowingly attracting. Izumi’s rapid claps could be heard over the soft ones belonging to the rest of the audience. Her face was split into a proud grin and [name] knew that if this event wasn’t as formal as it was, Izumi would undoubtedly be shouting her name by now. At either of her sister’s sides sat both Juuza and Sakuya, the latter looking almost defeated with the antics of his director as he applauded her performance along with everyone else. 

With a small smile on her face, she brought her gaze down towards the toes of her shoes before offering a parting bow and exiting the stage.

* * *

The wait for the results could only be described as painstakingly slow. 

Along with the other participants, she and the others all sat within a room located behind the stage and near the back exit of the banquet hall. It was large enough not to make her feel trapped and lining the back part of the room was a large table of food and drinks, though everyone was too nervous to even bother with stuffing their faces. While the audience was getting the final results and told who the advancing competitors were going to be, the participants were forced to wait for the results separately. 

[name] wasn’t exactly sure whether that decision was made in order to instill suspense in the group of musicians or something normally done in prestigious recitals like this one. 

With impatience, her fingers nervously played with the loose locks of her hair, twirling the colored strands before releasing them and allowing them to fall back against her shoulders. Though she was able to quell her self-doubt the moment she placed herself on that stage, she couldn’t help but begin self-analyzing in search of any mistake that might have ruined her chances of winning. 

_‘Maybe I should have gone with a traditional song. . .’_ Her teeth sunk into the skin of her bottom lip as she twirled another [hair color] ringlet around her finger. _‘Rich people hate individualism.’_

It was no secret that the classical world _hated_ when musicians strayed out of the norm and allowed their personalities to taint the traditional sound created by the original songwriter. It was a point that her various tutors in her childhood often scolded her for doing and if it weren’t for a certain one of them, she may have never even bothered honing her ability to create her own songs. If she lost today, it would only be due to that ridiculous standard that existed solely to limit a musician’s creativity.

The nervous muttering of the others around her went completely ignored until the sound of the door clicking open captured all of their attention. In the doorway stood the familiar doll-like figure of Niijimura Chisako. Her soft pink lips were curved into a friendly smile and she greeted everyone with a kind tone.

“You did well, everyone!” She congratulates with flushed cheeks and a cheerful sparkle in her brown eyes. “Now, if I had it _my_ way I’d say you all earned the title of first place, but unfortunately that choice isn’t up to me.”

Her smile drops and it's almost eerie how easily she was able to go from childlike cheerfulness to an austere expression. Her gaze sweeps the area, many of the participants avoiding her expression out of nervousness or to avoid staring at the very apparent wine-colored birthmark covering almost half her face. It was only until her eyes met with [name]’s that her smile returned.

“Tachibana [name],” She calls and [name] feels her stomach drop. “Do you mind coming along with me?”

With an apprehensive expression, [name] rises from her seat before making her way towards the shorter girl. Heavy, tense silence overtakes the room and its weight prevents anyone else from speaking. It felt as if they were almost _afraid_ and it was a sentiment that [name] couldn’t blame the rest of the participants for feeling as it was only her name being called and no one else's. By the time she arrived at the door to the room, Chisako hadn’t called on for anyone other than her and it only continued to instill that sense of dread.

“Please be patient,” Chisako politely urged whilst breaking the tense silence. “A staff member will be here soon to guide you all back to the hotel’s lobby. Please help yourself to the food and drink for the time being.” 

With that, Chisako gently pulled [name] through the door before shutting it completely behind them. The silence of the backstage area felt deafening in comparison to the weighted silence of the waiting room she just emerged from. Still, despite the freedom [name] felt, she still couldn’t exactly relax walking alongside the recital’s hostess.

The small heels the younger girl wore tapped against the dark tiled floor as she quietly led [name] towards the main banquet area, where [name] quickly discovered was emptied out save for the lone person who occupied a barren table. 

“Onii-chan!”

Haru glanced up from his phone at the sound of his sister’s call and broke away from her figure to acknowledge [name]’s presence. He took the moment they used to approach him as an opportunity to fully assess the girl who played similarly to his father. 

“Oh, you’re here.” He casually remarked as he stood up from his seat before sliding on his suit jacket that was hanging off the back of his chair. “I’m Niijimura Haru.” Before she could even respond with a formal introduction for herself, he interrupted her with a wave of his hand. “Don’t bother introducing yourself, I already know who you are.”

At his coarse words, Chisako frustratedly puffed her cheeks as [name] could only gape in subtle shock. “Nii-chan you need to be more polite than that!” The younger girl angrily huffed as her thin brows furrowed in agitation. 

“Sorry, Tachibana-san,” She said as she turned her attention towards the violinist, her lips forming a shaky smile. “My brother’s kind of an _idiot_ and it still seems as though he’ll need additional lessons in manners.”

Light laughter escapes her lips though the subtle twitch of her brow suggested she felt no sort of elation. [name] was quick to respond to her apology with a gentle shake of her head.

“I don’t mind,” She consoled, her fingers tightly squeezing as they intertwined together at her stomach. “I’m not at all bothered with what he said.”

Haru scoffs at her response, his arms stubbornly crossing over his chest as his sister harshly jabs his side with her elbow. [name] looks onto the sight of the two with distant fondness, they somewhat reminded her of herself and her sister if the roles were reversed. It was usually her sister who used to apologize on [name]’s behalf when she thoughtlessly blurted anything that came to mind.

“First of all, congratulations Tachibana-san for winning first place in today’s recital!” Chisako cheered with brightened features. Before the words could truly sink in, the blonde handed her a sealed envelope. “This is your check for one million yen as promised! I hope you put it to good use.”

[name] blankly nodded, slipping the envelope into the pocket of her dress where her phone was also tucked away. Only a second after the check was safely placed in her care, she felt the exciting burst of a victory bloom within her chest. The smile that picked up at her lips was one created out of the pure bliss of her hard work finally paying off. With this, she’d be able to ease the burden her sister carried and hopefully bring her one step closer to paying off that debt. With appreciation glinting in her [eye color] eyes, she glanced up at the two with reddened cheeks. 

“Thank you,” Her words of gratitude were rife with sincerity that only made both siblings gape curiously. “You don’t know how much I really needed this.”

Chisako was the first to break out of her stupor, cheerfully skipping up to the older girl before pulling her hands into her own. Her features were alighted with a delighted grin which added to her overall cuteness. 

“We should be thank you, onee-chan,” [name] tried not to outwardly react to the new term of endearment bestowed onto her by the younger girl. Despite her unfamiliarity with Chisako, she still found herself feeling delighted by the new title. “You played so beautifully I thought I was gonna _cry_ when your song ended!”

[name] flushed hotly at the younger girl’s rave over her performance. While it wasn’t uncommon for her to receive compliments on her playing, it felt so much more different when it came from the daughter of a world-renowned musician. Where most people’s words felt empty and devoid of any passion, Chisako’s was filled to the brim with her seemingly boundless enthusiasm. 

“Onee-chan, would you mind playing with me next time? I want nothing more than to perform next to you! Oh, maybe this-”

“Oi!” Haru interrupted the younger girl mid-sentence and pulled her away from [name] by the collar of her dress. “Don’t you think you’re wasting everyone’s time right now?!”

“Ah!” Chisako exclaimed, her coffee brown eyes lighting up in realization. “I almost forgot about the other thing we need to tell you!” Her gaze then flitted over towards her frowning brother. “Do you mind taking over onii-chan? I know I’m just going to get distracted if I talk instead. . .”

Haru shot his younger sister an incredulous stare before bitterly huffing. His sharp gaze fell away from his sibling to meet the inquisitive stare of [name]. “This is the first Niijimura recital out of four and after your performance today, I think it’d be in your best interest to attend the next.”

“If it’s money you’re after, you should know that with each advancing recital the prize money for first place becomes exponentially bigger than the last. Not only that, but the competition becomes tougher with fewer participants, in order to win you’ll have to really give it your all.” 

“Whether you’re in it for the money or recognition, just know that at the last recital held at the end of the year, our father, Niijimura Tooru, will be there to witness your performance. Of course, that is _if_ you make it.”

[name] was absolutely sure Haru didn’t like her and she could tell from his indifference that he doubted she’d even get far enough to advance past the second round. While the competition wasn’t at all in her interest, the promised money was too good to pass up on. [name]’s brows furrowed with thought as she considered her options, her lips forming a tight line.

“Here, onee-chan!” She lifts her gaze to meet the sight of Chisako holding a white business card before her. Gingerly, she takes the card as her eyes rove over the black text emboldened on the surface. “You don’t have to come to a decision today, but when you do make sure to contact that number!”

Chisako’s smile serves as a relief from her own indecisiveness. “Of course, I want you to accept since that means we’ll be able to hang out more, but it’s all up to you!”

“Make sure you consider it thoroughly, onee-chan!”


	23. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐰𝐨 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞.

╔═══════════╗

𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

╚═══════════╝

“So, don’t you have something to say?” Izumi pressed, hands settled on her hips and lips pulled into an impish grin. At [name]’s silence, her smile only grew wider. “ _Come on,_ [name], you can brag a _little!_ No one’s gonna mind, right?”

Izumi glanced between the two teen boys standing on either side of her, a chuckle emitting from her lips at the sight of Sakuya’s obvious look of admiration directed towards her younger sister. Juuza on the other hand merely offered the silent violinist a nod of encouragement with softened eyes and a subtle smile. 

[name] hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between the three before her. Sakuya’s star-filled eyes, Izumi’s excited grin, and Juuza’s pleased expression, she ingrained each of them into her mind along with the bubbly sensation welling within her chest at the thought of her recent victory. 

“I _won._ ” She said with lips curving into a grin and cheeks flushing with a pretty pink color. “ _And_ I was invited to the next recital.”

With the declaration of her claiming first place, the check in her pocket felt significantly heavier than it had moments ago. Now that she had it, there were several things which she needed to do. The main thing is to hand it over to whoever it was swindling her sister, and it had to be done without Izumi knowing. While it rifled [name] with anxiety stemmed from the fact that she was keeping something so important from her beloved older sister, she knew it was necessary if only to keep Izumi from refusing her offer.

_"[name], that money is for you."_ She could imagine her sister saying. _“Don’t waste it on me. I’ll manage without it somehow.”_

Though she could never doubt the extent her sister would go to ensure the survival of the theater their father once cherished, [name] couldn’t help but feel as though there was something _more_ she could do. Handing over her prize money was all she could really offer as assistance.

Still, despite her victory being achieved solely for her sister, she couldn’t deny the delightful buzzing of pride settling deep within her chest.

Izumi’s grin widened as her dark eyes garnered a sparkle of excitement. “So there’s gonna be another one of these? You better not forget to invite me!”

In response to the enthusiasm evident in her sister’s tone of voice, [name]’s lips perked into a similar grin Izumi wore. “Only if you take me out for some dinner. I’m starving.”

“Hmm,” Her sister feigned a look of reluctance though her persistent smile gave her away. “I _guess_ I should treat you.”

[name] playfully shook her head as she stepped forward to interlock her arm with her older sister. Before the two carried off towards the exit and completely forget the two other teens, Izumi glanced over her shoulder at [name]’s childhood friend.

“Juuza, do you wanna eat with us? Or is your mom expecting you home?” Izumi’s question was met with a polite shake of his head and a gruff affirmation that his mother wouldn’t mind. Izumi then turned her gaze towards Sakuya. “What about you? You’re free to join us if you want.”

After a moment of careful contemplation which consisted of him tentatively sharing a glance with [name], who in turn smiled at him, he declined Izumi’s offer. 

“Sorry,” He apologized, sheepishly scratched at his cheek. “The spring troupe and I were planning on holding a welcoming dinner for the newcomers. . .”

“Oh, maybe next time then.” Izumi’s dimmed expression lasted for only a split second before it returned once more. “I am glad to see you all getting along so far even if the summer troupe isn’t exactly. . . _conventional._ ”

At her sister’s remark, [name] raised a brow as she shot both Sakuya and Izumi with a curious look. Though she asked nothing of it and merely tightened her lips to a thin line before regarding her red-haired friend with a small smile. Just as he was about to pass her and Izumi, she caught his arm with her free hand.

“Tomorrow,” Her voice, gentle and teeming with sincerity, breaks through the noisy surroundings of the luxurious hotel lobby, and at the close proximation of it, his breath hitches. “Let’s eat lunch together, Sakuya.”

The small contact of her hand on his arm and the general lack of space between them was enough to fluster him, but the addition of her sudden usage of his first name had him nervously swallowing a ball of spit in his throat whilst fighting off a furious blush. Not trusting himself to speak, Sakuya merely nodded his head as he averted his gaze towards the glass doors of the exit and carried on as if she _hadn’t_ just made his heart skip a beat.

The cool evening breeze had done little to stave his blazing cheeks and though he wished for an empty mind, his thoughts were filled with nothing but images of [name]'s gentle demeanor and the question Masumi asked him earlier that day. 

_“Do you like [name]?”_

* * *

Juuza’s sharp gaze lingered on the glass doors his newest acquaintance (if he could even be called _that)_ exited through. While it was never his intention of assuming something about someone he barely knew, mainly due to his own experience of constantly being terribly judged because of his appearance, he felt as though the assumption of Sakuma Sakuya’s friendship with [name] being deeper than either of them realized was at least true. 

At least, if Juuza wasn’t mistaken, the heavy red blush that painted Sakuya’s features as he exited the hotel suggested that at least _one_ of them felt more than just friendship for the other. He couldn't hide the disdain he felt at that notion.

“So, what does my _very_ talented little sister want to eat tonight?”

His gaze drew away from the doors, trailing down towards the figures of his childhood friend and her older sister. Both of them were lightly chattering with one another with mainly Izumi filling the silence with suggestions for dinner. At the sight of [name]’s elated expression, Juuza felt his tense visage relax and the smile that perked at the ends of his lips was one that came all too naturally especially when he was around her.

She was the one person he could never seem to willingly rip his gaze away from if only out of fear of missing out on the brilliance she unknowingly emitted. His lingering admiration for her could be felt deep within his chest, squeezing his heart in a loving embrace that he found himself missing when she wasn’t around. 

“Sukiyaki.” [name] replies after some time, her gaze thoughtful and countenance reflecting the flicker of bliss she felt at the mention of her favorite dish. Her eyes slid up towards his, gold clashing with [eye color] and inciting a riveting excitement to course his being. “What do you think, Ju-chan?”

He doesn’t bother correcting her usage of his childhood nickname and merely averts his eyes from hers as his hands delve into the pockets of his slacks. Though his momentary fluster was evident from the pale pink that colored his tanned cheeks. “I’m fine with whatever.”

His ears perk at the sound of [name]’s giggle, the sound being almost akin to a chiming bell. The warmth in his cheeks intensified at the thought of wanting to hear it again and maybe even the rest of his life if she’d allow it. It felt right being next to her, as did anything else, and as natural as it felt to be at her side, there was still the murmur of doubt over whether she felt the same. [name] was an enigma that he hadn’t yet been able to figure out. No matter how much of their childhood they spent with one another, he wasn’t even close to being able to read her as easily as she was able to read him. 

Honestly, it was a bit unfair.

“Yeah, that sounds pretty good now that I think about it. . .” Izumi’s thoughtful hum brought Juuza out of his momentary stupor, and slowly, he dragged his gaze away from the girl who often captured his attention. 

“I can’t believe _you’re_ the one saying that.” [name] piqued from Izumi’s side, her brows furrowing as she shoots her sister an incredulous stare. “I thought you would’ve begged for curry or something.”

“Hey,” Izumi puffed her cheek at [name]’s teasing remark. “I know when to control myself.”

He’s always been somewhat envious of the sister’s close relationship. The two of them just knew what was on the other’s mind, evident from the secret smiles they would occasionally share with one another which usually resulted in the two of them erupting into laughter. Whether [name] would admit it or not, it was obvious that she was very fond of her older sister.

“. . . Sure, whatever you say. Now let’s stop talking about it and get going! I’m starving.”

* * *

“How come you didn’t invite Muku?”

It was a question she expected him to ask the moment he realized the missing presence of a certain pink-haired boy. While she was almost positive that her two childhood friends weren’t on the best of terms, it seemed as though Juuza wasn’t bothered with the mention of Muku.

She regarded him for a moment, staring at him from over the steaming pot of sukiyaki placed between them. Izumi was busy slurping on her own portion, though the curiosity evident in her gaze as she flickered her attention between [name] and Juuza hadn’t gone unnoticed by either of them. It was fairly obvious her older sister’s silence was because even she was wondering why the timid teen wasn’t present like she expected. If it weren’t for Juuza’s sudden question, Izumi would most likely be filling the silence with her senseless rambling.

“I, uh,” She hesitated, glancing between her sister sitting next to her and Juuza seated across from her. The disposable chopsticks in her hand came to a still as she contemplated her response. “I’ve kinda been avoiding him. . .”

It wasn’t like her to divulge the more personal aspects of her life as she was the type to keep more to herself, but this was a unique situation she didn’t know how to handle without some kind of advice. Izumi stared at her sister’s hesitant visage and just as her lips parted to voice her assurance that the younger girl didn’t have to say anything more if she didn’t want to, she was promptly interrupted.

“He confessed to me and now I don’t know how to face him.”

There was silence and then the sound of chopsticks clattering against the wooden tabletop. [name] lifted her gaze from her bowl of food she idly stared at towards the widened stare of Izumi who looked as if she heard the most shocking thing on earth. Her dominant hand was still hovering in the air, her fingers poised in the position she used to hold her chopsticks.

“Wh-What did you just say?”

The obvious shock in her sister's tone of voice and expression didn’t feel at all warranted from the minor detail of Muku’s hidden affection. At least in [name]’s opinion it shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but even Juuza held a mystified look that disappeared as soon as she took notice of it. She wanted to ask more about the pensive expression that soon came after his shock, yet the words had died on her lips as soon as they came to mind. For some reason, whether it was truly because of her own fear of her ever-changing relationships with the two people she considered to be closest to her, or the fact that these doubts could be true in reality, kept her from voicing her concern. She didn’t have it in her to deal with someone else’s hidden feelings. 

“[name],” A quiet gasp left her parted lips when Izumi suddenly grabbed a hold of her arm. Her gaze raised towards her sister’s somewhat giddy expression and she couldn’t tell if she were amused with the new development in her friendship with Muku or if she were elated with the fact that something she expected to happen finally became reality. “Muku _confessed_ to _you?_ Like afterschool rooftop confession or love letter in your locker confession? Which one was it?”

[name]’s brows furrowed, her expression displaying her momentary confusion over her sister’s barrage of questions. Izumi stopped mid ramble before shaking her head. “N-Nevermind that, what did you say to him?”

“Nothing.” She admitted after a tense pause of silence. Izumi blinked, hands dropping from her sister’s arm as she leaned away. Her lips were parted in a slight gape almost as if [name]’s response puzzled her. “I couldn’t say anything to him.”

“You didn’t accept?” 

Juuza’s voice was a relief to hear and the steadiness grounded her back into reality. While her sister was still contemplating [name]’s answer, Juuza looked to be much more unsurprised by the situation. If anything, he appeared more anxious than concerned with his cousin’s sudden confession. 

“No,” She trailed her gaze away from her sister’s face to meet Juuza’s stare. “I told him I’d think about it.”

He hummed, nodding to himself as his golden eyes fell to the table placed between them. “You should take your time. Make sure you accept because you _want_ to and not because you _have_ to. Muku deserves that much at least.”

With that bit of unexpected advice, the subject was dropped and the rest of her celebratory dinner was spent with idle chatter and silent contemplation. Truthfully, she knew Juuza was right. She couldn’t accept Muku’s feelings because he was her friend and she was afraid of ruining their relationship with her rejection. He deserved her serious consideration as a guy rather than her precious childhood friend. If she were to reject him, whatever consequences come after were ones she'd have to deal with rather than run away from like she had been doing so far.

Only hours after the buzz of her victory faded and she was left alone with her thoughts in her darkened room had she realized that things were never going to be the same again. Along with the shift of seasons came the tides of change.

Summer was here.


	24. 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐰𝐨 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨.

╔═══════════╗

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

╚═══════════╝

“Can’t you stay over for just a _little_ longer?”

Her request came off needier than she wished and despite her embarrassment at showing such a vulnerable side of herself to her sister, she at least took some comfort in the fact that Izumi hadn’t teased her for it. Instead, the older woman gently patted the top of her head while smiling warmly at her. The sight of it reminded her of the times Izumi comforted her when she was younger. 

“Sorry, [name]-chan, but I promised everyone I’d be there in time for morning practice.”

An unconscious pout formed on [name]’s lips as she averted her gaze from her sister's. She was well aware of the love Izumi had for the theater and its company. Though even with the knowledge of the obligation her sister held towards the place, it did not ease the bitter loneliness she felt at the idea of spending a day alone in their childhood home. She glanced down at her fingers, nervously fiddling with them before looking back up at her sister who curiously blinked down at her oddly shy demeanor. 

“Can I go with you then? To the theater?”

Her request is met with a puzzled glance from Izumi yet her older sister doesn’t voice her confusion and merely nods her head with a smile on her lips. [name]’s dislike for anything that had to do with their father, especially the theater, was all too obvious. Izumi had every right to question her and it was a surprise when she didn’t.

“Sure. I’ve been wanting to introduce you to the summer troupe anyway.” It’s then that her grin turns a bit devious, a look [name] was all too used to seeing. “I think you’ll be surprised to see who’s in it.”

[name] tilted her head, her brows furrowed. “Is it someone I know?”

“It’s a secret~” Izumi giggled as she turned back towards her bed to pack up the little bit of stuff she brought along with her. 

Her sister rarely ever stayed the night especially after her argument with their mother. While [name] was more than used to the yelling, glaring, and the subtle jabs, the last argument was possibly the worst. Not only had it ended with Izumi leaving their home for the theater’s dorms, it had also driven a wedge between her sister and mother. Without a doubt [name] knew the two of them felt the strain in their relationship as well and it was what caused her sister’s early morning departure and their mother’s unexpected trip to the store. It was fairly obvious neither of them could stand to be in the same room as one another for more than a few minutes and so they resorted to just avoiding the problem. 

At least both of them were _trying_ to mend their relationship. Despite the uncomfortable air that existed between the two of them, a fact made evident the night she and her sister arrived home after her celebratory dinner, they attempted to appear as if there weren't anything wrong between them. Their mother had been waiting with a grin on her face and an enthusiastic congratulations on the tip of her tongue, though the moment she took notice of Izumi, her smile grew stiff and her tone lost its previous brightness. Still, they conversed the whole time as normally as they could though they never outright said it, [name] knew they were doing it for her sake.

“So, are you ready to go?” Izumi’s lips stretched into her usual friendly grin as she turned towards her sister before gently urging her out of her old bedroom. “I don’t know how long those boys will be patient for, so let's get going.” 

The moment Izumi left her side to slip on her shoes at the genkan, [name] idly patted the pocket where her recently received check was safely tucked away in. Her brows furrowed in thought as a bout of hesitation suddenly overcame her. She was in no way rethinking her decision in handing over her money for the sake of her older sister, but the thought of coming face to face with the man the money was owed to was the origin of her anxiousness. 

Dangerous people were the type she preferred to keep herself far away from and though two of her friends, Juuza and Banri were considered to be delinquents, she didn’t think they were anywhere close to the notoriety a member of the yakuza held. It genuinely scared her to think about what might happen if she were to freely approach him like she thought of doing.

How does one get in contact with the yakuza anyway? Should she make an appointment? But with who? Maybe she should just wander the streets until she stumbles upon some shady people?

“[name]?”

Her sister’s call brought her out of her momentary stupor and with rapidly blinking eyes, she glanced up from the floor she was staring at in thought. Izumi’s grin dimmed to a wry smile and her eyes that were usually bright with excitement were instead filled with concern. There was a silent question of [name]’s wellbeing hovering in the air to which the younger girl offered nothing more than a quick quirk of her lips before moving towards her own pair of shoes still neatly placed off to the side of genkan. 

“Are you sure you wanna come with me? If you’re too tired you could just stay home, you know.” Her sister’s voice was low and it teemed with care. 

“I’m fine, onee-chan.” [name] lightly placated as a soft laugh escaped her lips. Although she knew her sister was surprisingly stubborn when it came to fretting over her health, the small show of [name]’s cheer was enough to chip away at Izumi’s troubled expression. “I’m just a little nervous about meeting new people. You know I’m kinda terrible at first impressions.”

Izumi hummed, holding open the front door to allow her sister to pass through first before joining her side. “I think you’re polite enough. . . But I _guess_ you and Masumi hadn’t exactly gotten along during your first meeting.”

“Which reminds me, how is it that you two have only _barely_ met this year? The same with Sakuya! I can kinda understand how you didn’t know Masumi since he’s a year below you but Sakuya has been in the same class as you since _middle school!”_

In response to her question, [name] awkwardly laughed as her eyes stayed glued to the passing scenery of their neighborhood. While being oblivious to pretty much everything around her was just another part of her odd behavior, it was somewhat embarrassing to admit that fact aloud. Izumi appeared to have sensed what kind of reply awaited her pressing curiosity and with a defeated sigh, she shrugged her shoulders.

“Nevermind, I think I already know why. . . I’m just glad you’re friends _now_ at least.”

It was silent between them for a moment, [name] entrapped in her own apprehensive thoughts concerning a certain man who seemed to have it out for her sister’s beloved theater. The situation was quite unique in regards to the fact that she’s never once _willingly_ sought out a criminal nor did she ever anticipate handing over a large amount of money that she earned herself to a member of the yakuza. It really felt as if her devotion to her older sister were being tested though if it was her failure they wanted, they’d be sorely mistaken if they thought she’d give in so easily. Family was among one of the most important things she cherished in her life and though her father didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, she cared for both her mother and sister deeply enough to make up for his missing presence. 

There wasn’t anything in the world she _wouldn’t_ do for Izumi.

“Onee-chan,” Izumi glanced over towards her side as the two of them stopped at their designated bus stop. Her brows raised and a curious hum emitted from her closed lips. “Does that yakuza guy come around the theater often?”

Izumi blinked, her curiosity becoming more clear on her features, and [name] could see the wheels turning in her mind to piece together a reason she would be asking about someone the both of them could only assume was fairly dangerous. Still, she nodded to appear as casual about it as she could but [name] was more than aware of her sister’s oddly perceptive nature. If she weren’t careful, Izumi would find out what she was intending to do, or at least gain some suspicion and probably keep an extra watchful eye on her to ensure that she wouldn’t wander off to meet with a certain someone. 

“Sometimes.” She averted her gaze and crossed her arms over her chest as she glanced down the road in hopes of finding the approaching silhouette of their bus. “He might show up today since it’ll be the summer troupe’s first practice session. He likes to keep tabs on us.”

_He probably does that to intimidate you. . ._ [name] scoffed at the thought, her distaste for the man steadily building. As if it weren’t bad enough that he was pressuring her sister to sell out for every show in order to keep the theater standing, now he’s attempting to instill fear in her by unnecessarily hanging around. 

“I’ll make sure to steer clear of him if he’s there.”

“Promise?”

[name] met Izumi’s serious expression with a soft smile of her own as she nodded her head. “Of course.”

The empty promise made to her sister left a sour taste in her mouth.

* * *

“Sorry for being late!”

Izumi’s voice was loud as it echoed throughout the room [name] could only assume was designated for the actors to practice in. Almost immediately, Izumi left her side to join up with the small gathering of boys. 

Curious eyes bright with wonder glanced around the room and absorbed every detail they could come across. The room was bigger than she expected and its walls were painted a plain cream color. A set of large windows lined the wall near the entrance and the morning sunlight was the first thing that greeted her as she stepped past the room’s threshold. The hardwood floors beneath her feet were light in color, impeccably waxed, and it reflected the natural glow of the sun. Across from her on the opposite wall, she was quick to notice the large mirror that spanned the width of the wall and displayed a reversed image of her figure standing near the entryway. 

“Tachibana-san?”

Breaking her stare off with her doppelganger, [name] snapped her gaze towards a familiar redhead standing behind her. Her lips parted in a surprised gape though soon enough as Sakuya’s identity registered in her sluggish thoughts, her lips curved into a friendly smile.

“Oh, Sakuya. . . good morning.”

His features mirrored a look of surprise that conveyed his shock with the discovery of her presence. “What are you doing here?”

She watched as his expression suddenly jolted, possibly due to the slight edge his question held, and with pink cheeks, he hurriedly corrected himself. “I-I mean, I didn’t think I’d ever see you here. . .”

He was right to assume that. It’s been weeks since she last visited the theater and her intentions of avoiding it had to have been too obvious. Despite being somewhat aware of her dislike for the place, she was at least glad that Sakuya had yet to ask her reasoning for it. She deemed it far too personal to tell it to just anyone.

“I came with my sister.” 

Her reply was simple and to the point in order to cover for the lack of a plausible excuse for her being there. Part of her reasoning was out of loneliness though that wasn’t anything she was set on admitting aloud anytime soon and the other was for business purposes. Neither of these things was something she could outright tell Sakuya no matter how comfortable she was with him. 

“Besides,” She glanced over at him as he stopped at her side. “I promised we’d have lunch together, didn’t I?”

Whether it was out of embarrassment or shyness, Sakuya’s cheeks dusted pink as he averted his gaze from her own and fidgeted with the sleeves of his dark-colored jacket. “. . . That’s right.” He affirmed himself with the memory of her parting words the night before. “But, I’m not sur-”

“[n-name]?!”

She perked at the call of her name, her widened gaze falling upon the figure of a certain pink-haired childhood friend. She rapidly blinked and even gave her eyes a good rub to determine whether she was hallucinating Muku standing there in the group of actors along with her sister or if it were reality. His figure never faded nor did his genuine look of surprise. 

This was real. Muku was _actually_ standing before her in the Mankai theater’s practice room. He was a part of the summer troupe and assumedly the person Izumi cheekily teased her with this morning.

“Muku. . .” She blinked once more before stepping forwards and closing the gap between herself and him. Though there were others who curiously stared at her, the spring troupe being there as well, their presence went largely ignored by her as her eyes never once left Muku’s. “You joined the summer troupe?”

The answer was fairly obvious, though she couldn’t help the need for confirmation from the boy himself. If it was her sister who forced him into acting, she’d do everything she could to convince Izumi to give it up. 

“Yeah, I did.” 

Once again, [name] was left in a state of shock. The grin that displayed across his boyish features was bright and genuine. It was teeming with an excitement she hadn’t seen from him for a while and it was then that she realized he wasn’t forced here by anyone. His presence was out of his own free will. Never did she think theater would be something to pique his interest and though she once believed that track was what he loved most, maybe she was wrong in assuming that.

“I see. . .” She nodded with furrowed brows.

“Were you surprised?” Izumi tittered from beside her as she leaned to get a better look at [name]’s expression. “I thought you would’ve already known but I guess even Muku was keeping it a secret from you!”

It seemed as though her sister completely forgot the fact that [name] was avoiding him for a bit after his unexpected confession. She merely sighed in response, shrugging her shoulders to convey her disregard of her sister’s quip before bringing her attention to the new faces before her.

“Sorry for interrupting your practice,” She politely bowed her head. “My name is Tachibana [name], it’s nice to meet you all.”

Her lips perked into a small smile as she regarded each of the four unfamiliar males with a curious stare. The blond of the group was the first to greet her, an elated grin stretching over his features and his overall personality is somewhat overbearing. He appeared as if he’d emit stars at any given moment and though his cheer was a bit contagious, he was a little too much for her especially in the morning.

“Heya~ I’m Miyoshi Kazunari! Nice to meet you, director’s little sister!”

She couldn’t help the surprise that briefly flashed across her visage at his accurate assumption. Most people never could make the connection that she and Izumi were sisters. Sure, their last names were the same but Tachibana was common in Japan and many were quick to assume they were merely strangers sharing a similar last name rather than them being siblings. 

“Kazunari, how’d you know?” Even Izumi seemed to have been put off by his words. “Usually people don’t believe we’re sisters at first.”

Kazunari’s brows rose, his lips parting into a slight gape. “Eh, I thought it was pretty obvious.” It’s then that his grin returns and a playful glint shimmer in his green eyes. “You’re both pretty cute so it wasn’t hard to make the connection.”

_. . . Is that his way of saying he guessed?_

He finishes off his words with a wink and [name] feels the sudden urge to leave the theater completely. While she didn’t expect much from his response, she truly didn’t think he played off his assumption with needless flirtation.

“Anyway,” Izumi quickly moved on, looking almost as tired as [name] felt. She motioned towards a tall male with a unique shade of light blue colored hair. “This is Ikaruga Misumi. He’s actually been living in the dorms for a while. . . everyone thought he was a ghost at first.”

There were a million questions running through her head after Izumi’s vague introduction, though none of them were ever going to get answered as the said male was quick to bounce in front of her. His honey-colored eyes were filled with a childlike wonder and the dopey smile that stretched across his face exposed his unnaturally sharp canines. [name] thought of him as more of a vampire than a ghost. Also, he apparently didn’t know the word ‘personal space’.

“Eh~ Kazu wasn’t wrong, you really do look like the director.” His voice carried a lazy drawl that seemed to fit his ditzy persona. “You even remind me of a triangle too!”

_. . . ? Triangle?_

“Thanks?” [name] shook her head, her gaze drifting over to meet with her sister’s. “You recruited some really weird people.”

Izumi stiffly laughed, her forced mirth being far too obvious. “Don’t say that! There's normal people here too, see!” She motioned towards the last two [name] still wasn’t introduced to. “Yuki and Tenma are pretty normal!”

At the mention of their names, the two snapped out from the argument they were apparently having if [name] were going off from the nasty glare the both of them shot at one another. The green-haired boy looked distantly familiar, though his name hadn’t rung any bells even if it were vaguely mentioned by her sister. It seemed as though he too also somewhat recognized her as it flashed across his delicate features for a moment before dimming back to that deadpan he wore seconds earlier. 

Their gazes were locked with one another for a few brief seconds and before [name] could open her mouth to ask if they knew one another, the orange-haired male next to him spoke up first.

“I’m Sumeragi Tenma, but I’m sure you already knew that.” 

She could practically smell his arrogance rolling off him in waves, though she couldn’t exactly deny his notoriety. While her mind was usually filled with nothing other than music, she could still recognize the violet-eyed male from a certain drama she once tuned into. He was a pretty famous actor, yet she couldn’t wrap her head around the reason he’d want to perform with what could only be described as amateurs compared to him. An ego boost maybe? In all honesty, [name] didn’t think it could get any bigger. Still, despite her less than positive thoughts of Tenma, she continued to politely smile as she affirmed her immediate recognition of him. Though her vague acknowledgment only seemed to swell his pride.

Next, her gaze turned towards the still silent Yuki who met her eyes once more before closing them as he crossed his arms over his chest. “. . . Rurikawa Yuki. Nice to meet you.” 

His introduction was curt and as short as Tenma’s though where his was filled with pride, Yuki’s held nothing more than disinterest. [name] would have assumed that it was just another part of his personality if it weren’t for Izumi who suddenly exclaimed as if it were the oddest thing in the world for him to be so mellow.

“What? That’s it? No snappy remarks or sarcasm?”

Yuki’s cheeks turned red at her call out and [name] could see his fingers tighten their hold on his arms. “Does it _matter?”_

The sharpness in his tone seemed to have quelled her sister’s worry as Izumi’s shoulders visibly slumped as she muttered a ‘there he is’ under her breath. [name]’s gaze lingered for a second more on Yuki’s form before glancing away. For some reason, he captured her attention. She was beginning to think it might have been that fire in his eyes. It seemingly connected her to him in a way she couldn’t yet describe.

Rurikawa Yuki. She’d definitely remember that.


End file.
